


Scars Like Train Tracks [Straight To Your Heart]

by LadyVictory



Series: Rebuild As If From War [3]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: AgentSuperCop, Alex is dead as per the first story in the series, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Bi!Vasquez, Bisexual Character, Demisexual Character, Depression, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, My poly is showing, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, SpaceDad and his dumb kids, SuperCop - Freeform, Threesome - F/F/F, Vasquez also needs all the hugs, Vasquez is a goddamn badass, Vasquez needs love, demi!kara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2018-11-05 03:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11005200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVictory/pseuds/LadyVictory
Summary: THOUGHT: Kara Danvers is sunshine personified.THOUGHT: Kara Danvers cares about her, as a friend. Enough to want to see her happy.THOUGHT: Kara Danvers is in love with Maggie Sawyer.THOUGHT: Maggie Sawyer cares about Susan as a friend  and fuckbuddy - but nothing more.THOUGHT: Maggie Sawyer is in deep, stupid in love with Kara Danvers.THOUGHT: Susan is, much to her own embarrassment, very much in love with Maggie Sawyer.THOUGHT: Someone is going to get horribly, crushingly hurt. And if Susan has anything to say about it, it will be herself.****Maggie and Kara love each other, and Susan is determined to make sure they don't crash and burn.She is happy for them, she really is.Who cares if there is a gaping hole in her own chest whenever she looks at them? Who cares if she wishes they would look at her that way?





	1. PART ONE

**Author's Note:**

> AN 1: My security clearance is such that I am only at liberty to say that I gain no profit from these works.
> 
> AN 2: A continuation to the Your Name, Like A Song I Sing Myself fic, in which I had to literally delete whole scenes with Vasquez because my poly was showing and it was getting real... This fic will fill in some of those gaps, and also go beyond the end. 
> 
> AN 3: Endgame romantic Vasquez/Maggie/Kara (Agent SuperCop?), so be forewarned.
> 
> AN 4: These are all going to be in Vasquez POV. Each pairing (Vasquez/Maggie, Vasquez/Kara) will have featured chapters, and it will end with some Agent SuperCop (!) Fluff if I can swing it.
> 
> AN 5: No betas used their super powers on this one. All mistakes my own.

It only happens a few times, and each and every time Susan knows that it has nothing to do with them at all. It doesn't make her angry or more than fleetingly bitter, but there is definitely a small wisp of sadness that curls into her belly whenever it's over and the two of them lay panting next to each other.

Maggie is charming and funny and gorgeous, but she is also vulnerable and lost.  
  
Susan is only human, and when taken off guard can't quite bring up the strength to give the detective a hard 'no,' but, she does manage to make a deal with her own conscience not let things get out of hand.  
  
So, the first time it happens, Susan promises herself that it won't happen again. It's a lie, of course, but she has to make it.  
  
(She finally manages to keep to that vow when Maggie comes banging at her door in the middle of the night, in hysterical tears, pushing in and kissing her hard before Susan knows what is going on. But that isn't this time, that hasn't happened yet.)  
  
  
  
They're playing pool. Not at the alien bar, because there are too many memories of Alex, and too much of a chance to run into Kara, both of which plant a solid stone of guilt in Susan's stomach and are also the last things that Maggie wants to happen.  
  
It's a hole-in-the-wall little bar called the Trainyard, and it's near enough to Susan's apartment that she comes often enough for the bartender to know her first round by heart. No one from work has ever set foot here (except Val of course, and Alex that one time, and BOY had that been a wild night of drinking), and Susan prefers it that way.  
  
She watches her companion from her position, leaning back against the hard, sticky bar.  
  
Maggie is drinking ginger ales with limes on the rim to make them seem like mixed drinks, and is hustling a few of the younger regulars. Susan taught her exactly 3 tricks, and the NCPD detective is using them all, along with that mischievous dimpled smile and gorgeous pair of brown eyes, to win them the rights to the table for the rest of the night.  
  
"Got it bad," Susan mutters to herself, feeling the guilt in her stomach grow heavy and hot, like a glowing coal.  
  
She drinks half her beer to try and quench it, and turns around to motion for another drink.  
  
"Yeah, ya do," the bartender agrees, shoving a piece of lime into the dark brown neck of Susan's new beer.  
  
"Don't mock me, Sam. I have serious brooding to do," Susan says, only half kidding, taking a sip of the drink and wondering idly why half the bartenders she's met were named Sam in some form.  
  
Really, there are about seven separate thoughts running through Susan Vasquez head at any given time - it's how she's built - and so it is a testament to the situation she finds herself in that more than half are in some way related to her Maggie problem.  
  
Well, her Maggie and Kara problem.  
  
Not that _Kara_ is a problem. Or that Susan should be entangled in their... in their damn mess. But she can't help it.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: Maggie isn't the greatest pool player (though she has improved significantly since the first time they crossed cues), but she looks damn fine smoothly breaking a clean rack._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Maggie does this thing with the corner of her mouth when she knows she's got you where she wants you, and THAT thing does OTHER THINGS low down in Susan's abdomen._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: The trajectory of the shot being lined up by the man well into his cups is going to cause a scratch. (It does.)_ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She needs at least 6 hours of sleep tonight to function base-minimum adequate tomorrow._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She could watch Maggie hustle these idiots all night._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She should check on her analysis of the Brainiac program's adaptable algorithms._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: If she continued to act on her attraction to Maggie Sawyer, it would only make things that much more painful when the detective finally realized she was in love with Kara Danvers and that Kara loved her back._  
  
  
That last thought was like a firm elbow to the kidney, and Susan sighed to herself.

She liked Kara - always had - and Kara _clearly_ loved Maggie Sawyer. Both of these things made the situation precarious.  
  
It would be _so_ easy to let the light flirting that went on between her and Maggie lead to something more. Again.  
  
Except...  
  
Except she knew she would be slowing down the inevitable. Maggie and Kara were inevitable. As their friend, she had no right to get on between that.  
  
Still, when Maggie smiled like that at her as she lined up a shot, bending low so that she flashed the lace of her bra (that shirt was way too low cut, the smaller woman knew it) it was hard.  
  
(It didn't help that the detective was smart, and that she made Susan laugh louder and harder than anyone in... ever. That sometimes they would spend time and Susan forgot about all the noisy, insistent voices in her head.)  
  
  
_THOUGHT: Maggie was the first person to make her head quiet since Val died._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: They've had sex three times, and each time Maggie has stayed through breakfast._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Susan hasn't had breakfast with anyone but Director Henshaw and Agent Danvers (and Director Lane that one time) in years._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: If she skips through lunch, she'll have the time to crack the firewall on Winn's laptop and install a program designed to play the first Hanson album on an invisible player that moved drives every time a key is pressed on the keyboard._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Kara was progressing quickly enough that she would be comfortable introducing practice weapons soon._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Kara had looked so sad when she came in this morning - a Friday, usually a morning she would spend with Maggie._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She needed to find a way to resist temptation that didn't leave Maggie without support._  
  
  
"Earth to Vasquez," Maggie says, waving a hand in front of the agent's face.  
  
She doesn't _startle_ exactly, but she knows Maggie can tell she wasn't expecting that.  
  
"Victorious, were you?" Susan asks, taking another drink.  
  
Maggie shrugs, dimples on stun.  
  
"Nah I let 'em have it. I'm kinda pooled out for now," she says, eyes flickering down before coming back up - the picture of coy innocence.  
  
"This was your idea," the agent reminds, not blind to where this is going.  
  
She has to stay strong.  
  
It's a Friday and Maggie is hurting and as lonely as Kara, and _unlike_ Kara, Maggie deals with grief and ennui by chasing the high of losing herself in another person. Susan is under no illusion that this has much to do with her.  
  
(Susan'd estimate that bedding her had about 17% to do with her. Though Maggie would engage in the behavior regardless, given the choice of partners that aren't Kara, Susan would beat out most of them, which is saying a lot...)  
  
"Eh," Maggie is saying, rolling her eyes and reaching for Susan's beer. "I'm done playing with sticks for the evening."  
  
It takes a lot for the agent not to snort. "That was the _worst_ ," she assures her friend, letting the smaller woman have the drink. "You are the opposite of funny."  
  
Maggie grins salaciously, taking a deep pull.  
  
Warmth fills Susan's chest and curls into her stomach. She loves that grin. It means that Maggie's forgotten - even if it's just for a second - to be consumed by her guilt.  
  
"You love me," the detective says, all cocky confidence, waving her free hand dismissively.  
  
The word hits Susan's ear like a sharp slap, stinging, and she swallows hard.  
  
"If you say so," she replies, forcing a smile.  
  
Maggie raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment.  
  
The agent snatches back her beer (like taking candy from a baby) and finishes it off.  
  
"If you're so bored with bars and balls, why not change things up huh?"  
  
It's a gamble, playing this game. It's easy to get caught up in the flirting and forget she is supposed to be letting Maggie down gently.  
  
"Hmmm what do you have in mind?" Maggie asks, sliding closer, so that she's pushing her hips and thighs against Susan's. "Notice, by the way, how I let that _balls_ comment go? I'm a grown up."  
  
Susan looks her friend-sometimes-lover up and down, expression droll.  
  
"If you say so, detective."

"Shut up," Maggie mutters, poking Susan's side with an annoyed frown. (She manages to prod an old but sensitive scar, and it is by some hidden strength that Susan doesn't spasm in pain.) "No short jokes from you."  
  
Maggie must notice though, because she soothes the spot with apologetic fingers, her eyebrows crinkling with concern.  
  
"Objective observations are not jokes, detective, just facts," Susan replies with a smirk, squeezing Maggie's hip to reassure.  
  
"Asshole," Maggie hisses, but her dimples are out in full force so Susan doesn't take offense.  
  
Susan shrugs, reaching behind her without looking to place the empty beer bottle on the bar. She should turn, move away, but the feeling of her friend pressed close makes her feel something (something warm, and also _hot_ , that flashes up and down her body like lightning).  
  
This is more than she can say about her normal state of being in general. It's been a long time since Susan Vasquez has been anything but even for most of her day. Not since Val died.  
  
There was a _lot_ of head trauma - a lot of physical and emotional trauma in general - that occurred. Susan was inches from death herself, lost her right leg below the knee and gained some horrific scars on her torso (from the harried torture) and her scalp, hidden by her hair (from the attempts on her life).  
  
When she woke up fully post incident, _everything_ had hurt. Her nerves were live wires sending insane amounts of erroneous signals to her brain. Her brain itself was on fire, rocked by the trauma of her body being carved up like that, decimated by the psychological implications of _surviving_. If she had been able, she may have silenced it all. She's infinitely glad that she didn't, that she was too physically weak, and then that J'onn - then Hank - was around when she wasn't, to keep her grounded. But, she still wakes up screaming and sweating sometimes, mind back in those horrible first few months.  
  
It was more of a blessing than a curse that as she recovered, everything became... _muted._  Her emotions first, which faded like sounds underwater, then eventually the sensations in her body. She isn't _numb_ exactly, just... dampened.  
  
But there are things that pull back the veil.

  
  
_THOUGHT: Maggie Sawyer is one of those things. Her laugh, her easy banter, the way she forgets Susan isn't quite whole anymore. Not her body, because there is nothing Susan takes more pride in than being a badass, and her leg and other physical differences have nothing to do with her wholeness, but her... spirit, for lack of a better term. Maggie forgets, and when she remembers she only wants to make sure Susan is okay, but never pushes._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: So are early mornings at work, sipping that first cup of strong tea with honey. That first taste of the start of her day momentarily washes away everything that came before. Cleanses it away with the sharp bite of well steeped black tea leaves._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She needs to replace the tea in the breakroom because Acquisitions is full of penny pinchers and J'onn has found her secret stash again. Or maybe it was Kara this time, because her cocoa nibs are also almost gone..._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: The bright smile on Kara's face when she finally gets a new move in her training, under those harsh kryptonite lights, is another of those things. The pure, real joy of learning and self-improvement remind Susan of Val in ways that don't ache at all, but are warm and light and make her want to learn to be playful again._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She really needs to look into a new cycling algorithm for her work passcode because Winn managed to crack her workstation in under an hour and replace all her icons with pictures of breakfast foods._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: If she can convince Maggie to jog with her in the morning, the detective is less likely to suggest late night outings. Which is probably the best for them both._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: There is NO WAY she will be strong enough to tell Maggie no tonight of she pushes it_.

  
  
"You, me, early mornings..." the agent says, batting her lashes.

Maggie's grin gets sharper, a little predatory. She leans forward, pressing herself to Susan's front fully, moving to try and trail her lips up the agent's neck.

"I like where this is going..." she whispers, mouth oh so close to its goal.  
  
"...running. Rain or shine. The reservoir route specifically."  
  
Maggie groans, forehead flopping onto Susan's shoulder.  
  
"Opposite of what I had in mind."  
  
Chuckling, Susan pushes at her friend with a hand, trying to get out from between her and the bar. Maggie is stubborn, doesn't budge. Presses a little more firmly with her pelvis, if anything, and Susan has to bite her lip to keep a straight face.  
  
"It's getting late," she notes, because it is.  
  
It's almost midnight and she has to meet Kara at the D.E.O. at 8am for her Saturday training, which means she will probably end up heading there to sleep so she can get in a good length stretch beforehand. Her leg and back have been bothering her, the extra training reminding her that she is not in top shape anymore.  
  
"Take me home, then?" Maggie replies easily, lilting at the end like it is a question but the look in her eye belaying that it is most certainly a firm offer.  
  
(Like the one she makes with her hips, pressed solid and sure against Susan, and with her hands, resting on the agent's waist and gently, rhythmically clenching.)  
  
"Didn't think you had that much to drink, detective," Susan quips, breath starting to shallow.  
  
She just has to make it a little more awkward, because Maggie has never had the gall to outright ask to be taken to bed - just close little insinuations, just touches that lead, soulful gazes that spark something in Susan that was never really alive before. If the agent can throw off the game, then Maggie won't...  
  
"Still pretty sober, those Canada Drys were definitely watered down, but definitely a little like I'd like you to make me feel dizzy somewhere private."  
  
The smaller woman slips a hand under Susan's shirt, softly scrapes short, well cared for nails in whirling patterns on her sides.  
  
Susan closes her eyes, swallowing hard and shuddering, feeling sensations well up in her body and mind.  
  
Fuck.  
  
"Maggie..." she whispers, dimly aware that she sounds a bit desperate. To stop this or to make it happen faster is up for debate. "This is a bad idea."  
  
"You're absolutely right," the detective agrees, rearing back slightly so they can look at each other in the face. "Do you want to stop?"  
  
What makes it humiliating is that Maggie sounds sincerely concerned.  
  
Susan closes her eyes, defeated.  
  
"No," she admits, guilt and lust crashing over her with equal, brutal strength. “I… I don’t want to stop.”  
  
Maggie smiles a soft, relieved smile, and darts forward to latch onto Susan's pulse point, nipping with her teeth and laving it with her tongue.

  
  
_THOUGHT: Susan is overcome with lust, yes, but it's not just for sex, or for Maggie's body anyway. It's an all encompassing covetous lust for the deep well of feeling she knows will come a long with fucking Maggie Sawyer._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: The guilt is part of it, sometimes better than feeling  the underwater-through-three-layers-of-neoprene existence that she leads._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She needs to remember to set her alarm for an hour earlier than normal, if she is going to make it to the D.E.O. on time to stretch._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: The emotions that well up and spill over after these trysts linger long after they are over, lasting for hours, days, last time almost a week. It's scary, because she was sure that the parts of her that_ connected _were severed after the incident - that she wasn't capable of being a person like that anymore._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Maggie was not_ her _chance at completeness - she was Kara's. Susan knows this because it is Kara's name Maggie sighed as she slipped off to sleep, if she said anything at all._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She's going to have to learn to say no to Maggie - to say no to hanging out anywhere this could happen - if she ever wants to be able to look Kara in the eye without feeling like a traitor._

_THOUGHT: She hates that sad, lonely, broken look in Kara's eyes as much as she craves the ability to feel that Maggie gives rise to._

  
They're crashing together, crashing through her door and into her living room. They never use the bed.  
  
Maggie always presses close, presses kisses to Susan's neck and shoulder and collar (never enough to mark, of course not) as she fumbles with the button and zipper of her own pants. It's frantic and sloppy and unbelievably hot.  
  
She likes to be taken at least once almost fully clothed, Susan's noticed, like she's taking the edge off so she can concentrate. Susan is more than happy to oblige, insides turning to liquid heat at the sounds the smaller woman makes, at how she clutches at Susan to stay upright as the agent slips into her clothes, zipper pinching the back of her hand a bit while she works.  
  
Maggie whimpers as she recovers, every time, and nuzzles against Susan's neck, hiding her eyes.  
  
It breaks Susan's heart and makes her feel like she could beat a Valeronian in an arm wrestling match. She knows it has nothing to do with _her_ , not really, but she can't help the swell of protective affection in her chest.  
  
Maggie doesn't take long to come back to her senses, and when she does, she has a strong sense of fairness - eye for an eye, orgasm for an orgasm and all that. She wastes no time, undoing Susan's pants and yanking them down her legs so they bunch at her ankles.  
  
"Lets see how long you last before you tap out," Maggie murmurs against her skin, sinking to her knees with a look of hunger that makes Susan squirm.  
  
"Insert clever quip here," Susan snarks, left hand sliding into her lover's dark hair and gently grabbing hold.  
  
It's to control the experience, but not how Maggie probably assumes.  
  
The other times they've done this, they have made it to the couch, where there are blankets, and where Susan can sit down and make sure she doesn't accidentally topple over. Her prosthetic is good - _amazing_ \- top of the line equipment that under most circumstances serves as solidly as her own lost limb, hooked into her nervous system and everything (bless secret government black ops organizations with access to alien technology) but, there is something about _this_ particular activity that makes it hard to maneuver smoothly (something she discovered with previous lovers).  
  
Maggie looks up at her with deep, real affection, a genuine and reassuring smile on her face as she leans forward and lays kisses across the tops of Susan's thighs.  
  
"Don't worry, Vasquez, I won't let you fall."  
  
Susan's heart squeezes hard in her chest, tears suddenly springing to her eyes (she is able to hide these things because Maggie is immediately putting her mouth to work at the centre of her).

  
  
_THOUGHT: Too late._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Too late._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Too late._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Too late._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Too late._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Too late._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Fuck._  
  
  
Maggie stays through the night, muttering in annoyance against Susan's back when her alarm goes off before the sun is completely done rising.  
  
"Sshhh, go back to sleep," the agent murmurs, kissing the detective softly on the temple as she gets out of the bed. "Just pull the door closed behind you."  
  
"Should just... gimme keys..." Maggie says, already slipping back into sleep.  
  
Susan has nothing to say to that, because they spend a lot of time together but almost always end the night in their own beds. Luckily the light snoring from the rumpled covers saves her from having to respond.

  
When Kara shows up to the D.E.O., Susan has showered, stretched, then showered again. They fall into their routine easy enough.  
  
Afterwards, Susan can't quite look the taller woman in the eye. She doesn't seem to notice though, grinning and pulling Susan into a warm hug (something she has been doing more and more lately).  
  
"You're awesome, you know that?" the blonde says, not yet letting go.  
  
"You're just saying that because you finally managed to throw me," the agent replies, going for casual but her voice sounding strained even to her own ear.

"Nah," Kara says, confident as she pulls away. "It's just you." 

She kisses Susan's cheek - something she used to do to Alex all the time when the other agent was down and needed cheering up. Innocent and sweet and caring.  
  
Susan feels sick to her stomach. (A little part of her revels in the ability to feel that way at all, but most of her is horrified.)

  
  
_THOUGHT: Kara Danvers is sunshine personified._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Kara Danvers cares about her, as a friend. Enough to want to see her happy._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Kara Danvers is in love with Maggie Sawyer._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Maggie Sawyer cares about Susan as a friend  and fuckbuddy - but nothing more._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Maggie Sawyer is in deep, stupid in love with Kara Danvers._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Susan is, much to her own embarrassment, very much in love with Maggie Sawyer._

  
"Same time tomorrow, Drill Sergeant?" Kara teases, looking as if she is genuinely looking forward to giving up 6 hrs on her Sunday to train with the agent.  
  
Susan swallows hard but nods, not able to quite match the playfulness of her friend's tone.  
  
"Same time tomorrow, Supergirl."  
  
_THOUGHT: Someone is going to get horribly, crushingly hurt. And if Susan has anything to say about it, it will be herself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Kara/Vasquez
> 
> Kara's having a rough day and turns to Susan for help.


	2. PART TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don't speak during their cooldown, or in the locker room as they shower and change, but Kara practically skips next to her as they make their way to the parking garage. They chat idly in the car, and Susan lets Kara fiddle with the radio. She never lets Maggie do that, but Kara likes to sing under her breath to the songs she likes and it is sweet to see her relax like that.
> 
> ****
> 
> Maggie and Kara fight, and Susan is stuck in the middle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 1: See first chapter for disclaimers.
> 
> AN 2: Seems like there are other people into seeing where this goes. Dope!
> 
> AN 3: This is its own sort of pining angst. Different than the fiest 2 stories. We only get Vasquez POV. 
> 
> AN 4: Gonna end as romantic Maggie/Vasquez/Kara. Not your thing? No worries, hit that back button.
> 
> AN 5: I am free scribbling aka have no beta. All mistakes mine.

Kara looks absolutely miserable when she comes in for after work training.  
  
This is confusing, because Susan distinctly remembers the younger woman practically skipping out that morning after their early session (the agent is almost positive she was floating a little), ecstatic that she and Maggie were having lunch today.  
  
Ah. Of course. Maggie.  
  
There had been a smallish honeymoon period for the reporter and the detective, when they could barely keep their hands off each other in public (poor Winn tried so hard to pretend he didn't know, waiting for them to tell him so he could be cool and supportive) and they were all smiles and good cheer. But then something had changed. They had finally, after more than a year of dancing around the subject, started to talk about Alex.  
  
Susan knows this because she and Maggie, after some awkward (and personally excruciating) fits and starts, are finding their footing at being friends again.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: Sometimes she and Maggie are spending time - usually when the smaller woman is fighting with Kara, but sometimes (33% of the time) just because - and they will share a look and Susan remembers suddenly that her friend knows what she sounds like when she's climaxing, that_ she _knows what Maggie feels like when she's coming down, and she can't help but blush with both shame and a deep sort of longing.  
  
THOUGHT: Sometimes Kara will look at them both and smile a small, strange smile, like she knows a secret, and Susan thinks the blonde knows exactly what went on with Maggie and her. It is confusing.  
  
THOUGHT: Sometimes (more often than she is comfortable admitting) Susan is jealous of what Kara and Maggie have. When the two of them hold hands or lean into each other casually or when they are in the field and communicate with just looks. Susan wants that; Susan misses that. But she also wants them to have it - wouldn't want it at the expense of either of their happiness.  
  
THOUGHT: She has come to care for the superhero - as a symbol and as someone who is important to people she cares about and also as a person she cares about in and of herself (hard not to, regardless of how complicated that is) - but she has been feeling a strange sort of ache lately whenever she and Kara are around each other. Something that hits her low in the chest whenever the blonde is around, like the memory of something lost but also forgotten (an echo) and it is hard not to push her away in response.  
  
THOUGHT: It doesn't help that she misses Maggie now that they are together, though she doesn't really blame Kara for that even in her secret heart of hearts.  
  
THOUGHT: She has been meaning to take a short vacation - nowhere remote, but maybe to visit family. It's been too long since she's had a chance to speak in her first language and she misses the sun on her skin and the sand beneath her toes. Maybe in a few weeks, so she can transition Kara to someone else for training...  
  
THOUGHT: The idea of someone else taking over Kara's training leaves a bad taste in Susan's mouth. Not that she doesn't have faith in her colleagues, it's just that... Just that... _  
  
  
"Are... are you alright, Kara?" Susan asks, not sure if she wants an answer.  
  
"Yeah..." the blonde replies, looking like someone has thrown her entire stash of potstickers in the trash. "I will be. Just..."  
  
She shrugs, looking at Susan sheepishly.  
  
"Fight with Maggie?" the agent asks, mentally steeling herself.  
  
She will be supportive and attentive - she owes Kara that much at the very least, considering how selfishly she has allowed herself to act in the past.  
  
"Yeah. It-it wasn't her fault," Kara says, quick to defend. "Not really."  
  
Susan can't help but smile a little. She nods to urge Kara to continue, even as she begins their warmup.  
  
"Computer, kryptonite lights to 78%."  
  
Kara mirrors her movements, barely needing to pay attention at this point.  
  
"I... we were talking..." the Kryptonian begins, trailing off for a moment.  
  
"About Agent Danvers?" Susan offers.

Kara nods, swallowing hard (Susan doesn't know if it's because of the lights or emotion, but either way she is not a fan of the almost ill expression on the younger woman's face).  
  
"It's just _hard_ , y'know? We spent so long _not_ talking about Alex, and now that we want to, we don't know how."  
  
"Not... uncommon," Susan allows, getting into position for a partner-stretch. "These things take time, ma'am." Kara gives her the stink-eye as she grins. " _Supergirl._ "  
  
"I know. Really, I know. It took me... a very long time to be able to even begin to articulate what  I was feeling about Krypton. But, this is _different._  We get so _angry_ and we hurt each other, without meaning to..." she trails off, biting her lip hard enough that it turns the red of broken capillaries.  
  
The sight makes Susan ache. She knows what it means when someone does that - has been there herself - and Kara shouldn't _ever_ be made to feel that way.  
  
They are silent for a time, as they finish off their stretching and begin to go through the first round of exercises.

  
  
_THOUGHT: Without the kryptonite lights, everything they do as warm up would be pointless._ With _the lights, Kara sweats and huffs and shakes like any recruit.  
  
THOUGHT: It takes all of Susan's strength of will to keep her breathing even and her body steady, because even though Kara is weakened by the kryptonite, she is still healthy and vital and strong. She's never been _ damaged _\- or rather, the sun allowed her to immediately heal the damage, unlike her human colleagues (unlike Susan). Susan, whose ribs and leg and back ached when she wakes, even if it is dull and distant, whose joints lock up with the cold or the rain, and whose muscles spasm hard enough that she bruises sometimes.  
  
THOUGHT: She knew that Kara actually took _ a lot _of damage - and that she felt it all, even though her body repaired it almost instantaneously. Susan had been briefed by J'onn when she was asked to be responsible for the blonde's training. At first, much to her shame, the idea fascinated her. The idea that Kara wasn't_ dulled _but rather_ heightened _when it came to experiencing, well,_ everything _. Quickly though, her academic (and also slightly personal) interest transformed into horror, the first time she ran the Con and watched Supergirl get pounded into the pavement. The sounds of pain she made haunt Susan even now.  
  
THOUGHT: When Supergirl goes to save Maggie and James from Intergang, Susan is on Con and has to listen to her bones break and the young superhero scream in agony. She lasts long enough to oversee the securing of the warehouse before she excuses herself and runs to the locker room. She vomits so violently that she has a panic attack. When she gets home she takes her sterilized blade and adds a little hash mark to the _ very _small collection of scars on the side of her left foot - things she can never atone for - for daring to ever be jealous of Kara's ability to feel so acutely.  
  
THOUGHT: She knows J'onn gave her this assignment as a way to help her work through her own feelings about Agent Danvers' death. He most likely hoped giving her the chance to protect her sister would be enough to ease the solid band of steel that tightens around her chest whenever she remembers that she was running the Con for Alex, that she let Alex die like she let Val die. He... isn't wrong. She worries though that the relief of guilt is her becoming more numb and not actually her working through her grief.  
  
THOUGHT: Alex Danvers was the closest thing Susan had to a real friend since Val died. She misses the other agent everyday, like one misses a tooth knocked out in a fight.  
  
THOUGHT: Even weakened as she is, Kara's fists are like bricks when they strike, the kryptonite not able to take away the strength already stored from the sun. _

  
  
"Tell me about what happened," Susan prompts as they move from conditioning exercises to throws.  
  
Kara looks unsure, biting her lip like she thinks talking to Susan is a bad idea, completely distracted.  
  
The agent uses this to her advantage, wordlessly taking Kara down like a 5'8" sack of potatoes.

The blonde grunts as she hits the mat on her side, hard. Any harder and the dark haired woman could have fractured her hip.  
  
Susan knows that without her healing factor, Kara would be incredibly sore probably for days. She gentles the move at the last second though, guiding Kara down so it smarts but doesn't truly hurt her, even though it _would_ teach her to pay attention, to not _trust_ so easily.  
  
"I... don't think I can talk about this and train," the blonde groans, rolling over and struggling to her feet.  
  
She rubs at her hip and pouts a little, and Susan can't help the small, reassuring smile that curls the corners of her mouth.  
  
"Okay Supergirl," she agrees, switching gears immediately. She more than anyone will never force someone to speak if they aren't ready. "We're going to be introducing a new classification of techniques to your training, starting today."  
  
Kara perks up, rocking from heels to toes to heels again, clearly interested. She smiles hopefully, practically batting her eyelashes.  
  
"Flying?"  
  
Susan chuckles and shakes her head, her grin now a little bit evil. "Weapons."  
  
Kara deflates a little, breath coming out in a snorting sort of sigh through her nose.  
  
The agent knows well how much the younger woman hates weapons, how she'd rather use her fists and words and charm. But, she will not let Kara go out there without full knowledge of all of her tools and options if she can help it.

  
  
_THOUGHT: Kara could end up without her powers in the field - it has happened more times than Susan is comfortable with.  
  
THOUGHT: She knows that Kara views using weapons as cheating, unfair somehow. She'll have to break her of that instinct if her training is to be effective.  
  
THOUGHT: The next few weeks are going to be hell on Kara - Alex's birthday is coming up soon - and Susan knows that means there will be even more fighting between the lovers.  
  
THOUGHT: She'll have to remember to pick up coconut milk to make ice cream. Fresh non-dairy ice cream always puts Maggie in a better mood, which tends to shorten the length of time she and Kara are on the outs.  
  
THOUGHT: She is running low on groceries, has been ordering in a lot more lately. It is indicative of an on-coming downturn - a depression. She has to remember to make an appointment with Dr. Chase.  
  
THOUGHT: It's not that she falls into morose moods, it's the opposite. On good days, weeks, months, it takes a lot of energy to feel things consistently, to experience emotion as it comes and not as some sort of delayed after thought. When she... spirals, the struggle is almost impossible to win. She finds herself apathetic, completely incapable of connecting to the now - a sort of floating, limbo state. It is a miracle if she remembers to eat, she can't feel the hunger or her body anymore than she can feel her emotions. When she comes back to herself, it is frightening.  
  
_ _THOUGHT: She wonders what could have triggered this spiral. Nothing has changed lately, not_ really _._

 

They start slow, with disarming techniques for knives. Kara does remarkably well, relaxing a bit and allowing herself to get into the training. So well that Susan decides the younger woman deserves a break.  
  
"Let's call it a day, Supergirl."  
  
Kara looks confused, almost hurt.  
  
"Is... did I do something wrong?" She asks, eyebrows drawing together, biting her lip.  
  
Susan smiles with a warmth she can barely feel, but not for lack of stimulus.  
  
"No. You've done well. Even better than projected, which is impressive considering I am in charge of the training program." Kara blushes a little, ducking her head like she is feeling equal parts proud and shy, and the warmth becomes easier to feel. "You deserve a break."  
  
"Oh. Well... I didn't have any plans later."  
  
Right. Because she and Maggie are fighting.  
  
Susan realizes the extra alone time might not be the reward she intends.  
  
"If you want, I've the evening free. I was planning on going home early and working on my gardening."

Kara looks so hopeful that Susan has to hold her breath for fear of making an inappropriate noise. The blonde could melt the iciest of hearts - could wring blood from a stone with those baby blues.

"Oh I, I don't wanna _impose_ ," Kara murmurs, fidgeting in a way that makes it seem like she would literally levitate at the chance to spend time...  
  
"I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it, ma'am," the agent says, smiling when Kara rolls her eyes.  
  
"Again with the ma'am - always with the ma'am," she grumbles.  
  
  
They don't speak during their cooldown, or in the locker room as they shower and change, but Kara practically _skips_ next to her as they make their way to the parking garage. They chat idly in the car, and Susan lets Kara fiddle with the radio. She _never_ lets Maggie do that, but Kara likes to sing under her breath to the songs she likes and it is sweet to see her relax like that.  
  
"Pardon the mess," Susan says as she opens the door, suddenly painfully embarrassed at the state of her apartment.

The feeling is gone almost as she says the words, but it is sharp enough to leave a lasting little pulsing ache.

The garbage is full (she hasn't taken it out for almost a week), as is the fridge (mostly of half eaten take out), and she has been neglectful about keeping her dirty socks and shirts confined to her room.  
  
"Please. I've been best friends with Winn for years," Kara assures, waving away her concern. "There's nothing you can possibly do to scare me."  
  
Susan snorts, opening the door and leading the way into the apartment. Kara has been over exactly twice, both were times Maggie needed collecting. The agent regrets not inviting her over under better circumstances - she _does_ consider Kara a friend, even if they have a relationship that is mostly centered around work - and promises herself she will.  
  
She scoops up rogue pieces of clothing as she leads the blonde inside, letting the taller woman flick on the lights. With a smooth turn she tosses the laundry into her open bedroom door and closes it.  
  
"So..." Kara trails off, clearly feeling awkward.  
  
Susan is still moving, not allowing that stilted mood to gain hold.  
  
"Dinner?" She asks, walking over and physically leading Kara to the couch.  
  
The superhero smiles gratefully and nods.  
  
"I could eat."  
  
Susan doesn't ask what, just takes her phone out of her pocket and opens the delivery app.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: Chinese food is always a crowd pleaser.  
  
THOUGHT: She and Kara have similar taste in takeout, though while the blonde swears by potstickers (who doesn't, they are amazing), Susan prefers scallion pancakes. She likes the way they flake, the way they practically melt in her mouth, the greasy residue they leave on her fingers after they are done. She likes dunking them in dumpling sauce and wrapping them around sweet and sour chicken, the salt and the sugar chasing each other around her mouth and fighting for dominance.  
  
THOUGHT: The fact that she still thinks she will enjoy tasting the food is a good sign.  
  
THOUGHT: She should take out the trash before dinner arrives. While she can't really smell it, she is sure Kara's sensitive Kryptonian nose is being assaulted.  
  
THOUGHT: If she orders extra, she won't have to worry about breakfast.  
  
THOUGHT: Maggie will no doubt call Kara before long, so she doesn't have to worry about ordering extra for the other woman. (She will anyway, so she can take it home with her.)  
  
THOUGHT: She'll order Maggie's favorite too, because if she knows the detective she will not have even finished her lunch, too wrapped up in the fight and work. _  
  
  
Susan lets Kara tap in her order first, then adds her own and Maggie's, and two extra orders of potstickers for good measure.  
  
Kara wanders the living room, gravitating to the bookshelf first, where she looks at the books over the top of her glasses and gently trails her fingers across well worn and new spines alike. She makes appreciative noises as she does, but otherwise doesn't comment.

Next to the bookshelf is a framed drawing. Bold black lines, crisp white geometric erasure marks, and what looks like splatters of paint (it's an effect, everything done in charcoal). Written along the bottom of the page, in small precise letters, are the words: _FREE WILL_ .  
  
"This is..." Kara tilts her head, examining the 16x20 page again. "...yours? You made this?"  
  
Susan makes a vague sound of confirmation in her throat, using her friend's distraction to tidy up a bit.  
  
"Susan, this is... really evocative!" Kara breaths, turning to look at the agent with excitement. "Are there more?"  
  
"Some. One in the bathroom. A few works in progress in the bedroom," Susan allows, not sure how to feel about the eager look in the other woman's eyes. "Mostly I destroy them when they are done, or give them away."  
  
"Destroy... them?" Kara asks, blinking and nodding as she takes a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I definitely get that. When I first... I had to unmake a lot of the stuff I drew and painted at first. It was all about home, and, you know." She shrugs a little, frowning.  
  
"I don't really keep a lot of things," Susan offers,  taking a seat on the couch.  
  
It's true.

She has a small bookshelf with exactly 30 books on it (10 hardcover, 20 paperback), and there are three books in the bedroom, one in the bathroom, and two in the kitchen for a total of 36 books in the house.

  
_THOUGHT: All but three were gifts from family, and the remaining three were gifts from Val. She has a kindle she bought herself six years ago, and visits the library on a weekly basis._  
  
She owns 10 dvds, and two VHS tapes.  
  
_THOUGHT: These were mostly gifts from her siblings over the years. She owns an AppleTV, and plays old monster movies in the background when she cooks, nature and science documentaries while she cleans, and popular television shows while she folds laundry._  
  
She doesn't have any CDs or cassette tapes, preferring digital files, though she DOES own a turntable and 16 vinyls. The turntable was a gift from her father, along with 4 of the vinyls (the Isaac Hayes, the Ismael Rivera, the Donna Summer, and the Willie Colón). Alex had given her a rerelease of Combat Rock by The Clash when she had seen her original pressing of Too Tough To Die by The Ramones. The Prince and The David Bowie were from Val when she found the courage to come out as bisexual.  
  
_THOUGHT: She likes to play records on her days off, while she draws or while she exercises. She likes to breathe in the sounds of the imperfections in the disks as she goes to that special place where it's okay that her mind and her heart are empty._  
  
She has enough dishes for four place settings, color coded black, white, red, and blue, though she only ever uses once set (the blue, which is a deep navy color). Val used to use the black, and when Maggie stays she takes the white.  
  
_THOUGHT: She never uses the dishes when she gets takeout, except for utensils, because nothing is worse than a hot, soft plastic fork in her mouth when she's eating.  
  
THOUGHT: Growing up in such a large family, smack dab in the middle, made Susan less precious about owning physical things. She rarely had new clothing, books, toys, or beds. The first time that she had slept alone was when she went to a sleepover at a friend's when she was 9 and they gave her the couch.  
  
THOUGHT: She had lived at home in college to save money, and gone into the Army right after graduation. The first time Susan had her own room was when she moved to National City to work for the D.E.O. She hadn't slept right for months, unused to the quiet - to the solitude.  
  
THOUGHT: She hasn't been back home since Val died - hasn't known how to relate to her family and the noise and the chaos face to face - but she calls at least once a week to talk to her parents, and emails with her siblings regularly. She has never mentioned Maggie (or Kara or Alex or anyone even remotely relates to work) and wonders what her family would think of the situation. _

  
"You're... You're really _good_ Susan," Kara compliments, then looks down briefly, a little embarrassed. "I always hate when people say that, it sounds kinda empty. But, I mean, you are _skilled._  And, and precise, and _intense._ "  
  
Kara's words are sweet, and if Susan was in a better mood (capable of being in _any_ mood) she would feel proud. The Kryptonian is an accomplished artist herself, and the appreciation is sincere.  
  
"Thank you," she says, smiling a small, polite smile. "Coming from you that means a lot."  
  
There is a buzz at the door, and the food is there, and there is little time for conversation for a bit.  
  
(Susan is relieved, isn't sure what to talk to Kara about until she is ready to open up about the fight.)

  
  
As they finish, Susan clearing the empty containers and taking the forks and reusable chopsticks to the sink, Kara spies a small stack of boxes under the quiet television, in the small entertainment center.  
  
"You have Go?" She coos, clearly pleased, and scampers to the games.  
  
Susan can't help but grin.  
  
"It was a gift from Director Henshaw," she explains, making quick work of washing the few dishes.  
  
Carefully sliding the box out from beneath the few others - a nice chess set her mother got her for her 13th birthday, an old copy of Parcheesi that belonged to her oldest brother before he outgrew games, and bilingual Scrabble (Spanish  & English edition) Alex had given her when she got her for the Holiday Gift Exchange one year - Kara turns, clutching it to her body gently.  
  
"Can... can we play? I know we were gonna garden, but... Just, for a little while?"  
  
Susan feels real affection, soft and warm, well up and settle in her stomach.  
  
"Yes," she says, voice a little strained so that she has to clear her throat. "Of course we can play, Kara."  
  
The look of pure, uncomplicated adoration she gets from her friend transforms that warm feeling, making it feel like it might not fade away in a few seconds like almost everything else.  
  
They set up quickly, Kara taking the black stones automatically. Susan puts on a record - Miles Davis - and settles across the table, reaching into her bowl to take two white stones.  
  
They play for an hour, almost completely silent.  
  
Susan only gets up twice, once to flip the record and once to change it, putting on Violeta Parra (Kara seems to like it, humming along even though she's never heard any of the songs before).

  
  
_THOUGHT: J'onn aside, Susan hasn't played Go with another person since the last time she went home. Her mother and father were both good (her father was a little better but let her mother win half the time so she wouldn't lose interest) and they had spent rainy days indoctrinating their children. Susan's oldest brother and second youngest sister's were prodigies, and they had a permanent scoreboard in the family room at the Vasquez house.  
  
THOUGHT: Val and Maggie weren't much for the game, though Val had been an avid card player (it got her into and out of lot of trouble), and Maggie played a solid game of Checkers and a decent game of Parcheesi.  
  
THOUGHT: Kara is always lovely, but there is something especially beautiful about the way she concentrates on her next move. Like she forgets to put on an act - to be the perky, happy girl next door and lets her intelligence stretch  and flex, giving a glimpse of the heir to the great Houses of the mind that she would have been.  
  
THOUGHT: J'onn had urged Susan to associate with Kara outside of work, and while she knows she can't (shouldn't), it gets harder everyday not to.  
  
THOUGHT: It has been 238 days since Susan consorted with anyone other than Maggie, J'onn, and now Kara outside of work. Maybe that is causing her spiral. Tomorrow she will go out and find someone to spend a few hours with. Maybe that will help alleviate some of the ache she gets when she looks at her friends. _ Friend. _When she looks at her friend -_ singular _. When she looks at_ Maggie _._

 _THOUGHT: The scars on her ribs and her back and her scalp tingle, just this side of pain, like they are raw and newly healed. She thinks it is just a reaction to being tired, but the vulnerable feeling in her chest tells her it may be something else.  
  
THOUGHT: She _ definitely _has to make an appointment with Dr. Chase. Her life is becoming more complicated than she likes, as if being part of a top secret alien hunting shadow government organization isn't complicated enough._  
  
  
They play in a rhythm, like they are dancing, the steady but thoughtful clack of the stones being placed their beat. Kara smiles just as wide when Susan advances as when she falls behind. The give and take is in no way tentative, but rather sure and full of mutual respect. Intimate.  
  
  
Maggie's phone call shatters the quiet, plowing into the soft strains of guitar and tapping of Kara's fingers on the table.  
  
They both look to Kara's phone, both look guilty, having forgotten all about Maggie even if it was just for a little over an hour (one hour, seven minutes, nine seconds to be precise).  
  
On the third ring they look at each other and Susan raises an eyebrow, a heavy feeling in her throat and gut.  
  
Kara answers, turning away a little as she does.  
  
"H-hey Maggie. Hi." Susan can see her slump a little, but also can just make out the little smile the curls the corners of her mouth - relief. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll come home and we can talk. No. Yeah, she ordered us dinner. Yes you too. No, it's okay, I'll come to you. I think she probably wants her place back." A pause and Kara sighs, happy. "I love you too."  
  
She hangs up and turns back to Susan, apologetic smile in place. Susan waves her coming apology off, standing a stretching.  
  
"We can finish another time," she assures, cutting Kara off and planning _never_ to play Go with her again. Too intense. Too evocative. Too _intimate_. "Go be with Maggie. Make sure she's fed. And, get some _rest_ . You still have training in the morning."  
  
Kara smiles and gets up too, moving to hug Susan tight. She's warm, like she is running a low grade fever (normal for Kryptonians) and Susan fights not too relax too much into the embrace.  
  
"You're wonderful, you know that?" Kara asks, kissing her softly on the cheek before pulling back.  
  
Her smile crinkles the corners of her eyes and it makes Susan's stomach tighten a little.  
  
"If you say so, ma'am."  
  
The scowl she gets for calling the blonde "ma'am" is priceless.  
  
"Don't make me take that back," Kara threatens.  
  
Susan smiles now, chuckling a little.  
  
She helps Kara get the food and her bag together, stands at the door as the younger woman lingers.  
  
"Anything wrong?"  
  
Kara looks nervous again, pursing her lips and fiddling with her glasses.  
  
"We... we're friends, right Susan?"  
  
"I... yes Kara, we're friends." She doesn't know what to say, how to explain that things are so complicated that terms like 'friends' almost have no meaning. "Why?"  
  
"I just, I want you to know that I, that _we_ \- Maggie and I - we _care_ about you. That you are important to us, and that we are grateful for you," the blonde says, nodding earnestly.  
  
"All... right. I care about you both too."  
  
Kara opens her mouth, looks frustrated and like she wants to say something else, but sighs and blinks hard, face going back to pleasant and affectionate. She moves and hugs Susan again instead, seems to draw strength from the contact.  
  
"See you tomorrow, right? Bright and early?"  
  
"Eight a.m., Supergirl. Don't be late."  
  
Kara nods and pulls away, disappearing at a speed _just_ a tad too fast to be strictly human.  
  
When she's gone, Susan closes and locks the door, leaning back against it stoically for a moment, forcing the swirl of confused and confusing feelings in her torso to settle.  
  
She walks to the table, examine the board as it stands. Kara was at an advantage currently, but one move and Susan would have changed the tide. They were almost perfectly matched, balanced.

She can't bring herself to take the board down then, so she leaves it, sitting on the couch and shooting off a formal request email to HR to set up an appointment with Miriam.

  
The board and the warm feeling playing with Kara brought stays with her for a while. Days. Longer than most things. They last until the next time she sees Maggie and Kara together.  
  
They're happy, smiling, pressed close at the hip as they speak to James and Winn.  
  
She is happy  _for_ them. That much is absolutely true. Seeing them comfortable and close feels good. But, the her own little pocket of SOMETHING dissolves back into the familiar, almost comforting _emptiness_.  
  
(She feels guilty, think this means that there is some part of herself that _doesn't_ want them to be happy and is appalled.)

 

_THOUGHT: Kara and Maggie have a lot to work through, but they are happy._

_THOUGHT: Kara and Maggie are good together._

_THOUGHT: She has no business developing feelings for Kara, in whatever capacity she is capable._

  
  
When she gets home that night, she methodically and calmly cleans up the board, one piece at a time, playing their game backwards almost.

  _THOUGHT: She needs to take a vacation. To get away from Maggie and Kara and their seemingly inescapable orbit._

_THOUGHT: She should go home._

She puts the stones in their covered bowls, and packs them and the board away, sliding it back into its place at the bottom of the small stack of games she no longer plays, because she has no one to play with anymore.

_THOUGHT: She can’t go home._

_THOUGHT: She’s forgotten where that is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Maggie and Susan finally make good decisions. Maybe.
> 
> Any questions, throw them in the comments.


	3. PART THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of the night she has two completed pieces. She has two goodbyes.
> 
> THOUGHT: She is a coward, but, she is no fool. Something is going on. Something with the potential to wreck them all. 
> 
> THOUGHT: She will complete the transfer request after training. She will keep them all safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 1: See chapter 1 for disclaimers.
> 
> AN 2: Halfway done, y'all. 
> 
> AN 3: This chapter has some of the scenes I ended up cutting from the last fic (rewritten bc I straight up erased them). So there are some time jumps.
> 
> AN 4: I promise there is at the very least a hopeful ending to this...

**MANY MONTHS AGO**  
  
The banging on her door is desperate and loud, shocking Susan out of a deep sleep. She rolls onto her stomach and pushes herself up. Her arms are shaky, her body feels weak and like she might vomit. There is nothing worse than being woken suddenly from REM sleep.  
  
_THOUGHT: It's barely 10pm, but Susan had been  exhausted enough to fall practically dead into her bed._  
  
_THOUGHT: She had been up for over 30 hours, a double shift and then a manic burst of energy compelling her to use her charcoal._  
  
The agent struggles to her feet and stumbles out of her bedroom, blurry as she makes her way to the front of the apartment. She looks through the peephole and her eyes close, a weird flash of _something_ lancing through her chest.  
  
Maggie Sawyer.  
  
A hysterically _crying_ Maggie Sawyer.  
  
Sweet gentle Christ.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: Her stomach feels like it's made of a sickly jelly, the way it wobbles as she struggles to wrench her mind to order enough to help her friend._  
  
_THOUGHT: Maggie looks as bad as she did before she stopped drinking, before she agreed to see Dr. Chase. It terrifies Susan, the feeling like a hot livewire through her chest, the realest and sharpest thing she has felt in years._  
  
_THOUGHT: It's Sunday, and Maggie had plans with the boys at the bar. Nothing they could have said or done to her would cause this reaction. It_ had _to be about Kara._  
  
_THOUGHT: Kara would rather swallow jagged green kryptonite than ever do anything to hurt Maggie. This was all a misunderstanding._  
  
_THOUGHT: Whatever happened, it was huge. Something that changed everything. This terrifies Susan more than Maggie's crying, but also gives her hope. She knows it means her friends are closer to what they want than they realize._  
  
  
Maggie shudders, her body seeming to implode then explode with each sob. The sound is painful and visceral, like a wounded animal or a terrified child.  
  
Susan opens the door, still dazed.  
  
"Detective?" she asks, needing a bit of distance.  
  
It's all she can do to keep herself from pulling the smaller woman into her arms. But, she knows she can't...  
  
Maggie is on her before she knows what is happening, kissing her hard and fast and desperate.  
  
Susan can't help herself - she lets it happen, knowing instinctively that _this_ is the last time something like this will ever happen. She won't let it get too far, but she can't deny herself this moment, the feeling of Maggie pressed close.  
  
She slows the kiss, cooling the almost hunger and drawing it out a little. She tries to show Maggie how much she cares with just her mouth and the hands cupping the other woman's face. She thinks it works, but she will never ask, never be _sure_ Maggie understands. The thought makes her ache.  
  
After long moments Susan pulls back, a firm hand on Maggie's chest to keep her from following.  
  
She feels hollowed out, empty and alone, a small trickle of the sadness that will come later dripping into her stomach.  
  
"As much as I'd like to think otherwise, this isn't about you and me, is it?" To her credit, she is only minimally bitter.  
  
Maggie looks deeply shamed, heartbroken all over again. Her breathing twists into a sob so intense it sounds like her chest is collapsing, and she looks at Susan with large, helpless eyes.  
  
"Jesus, Maggie. Come here," Susan breathes, unable to stand it anymore.  
  
She pulls her friend into her body, as if she can protect her from her pain with physical contact alone, and shuts the door.  
  
They are plunged into the thick, soft darkness of Susan's apartment, and she feels Maggie sag against her.  
  
"I'm so sorry, I fucked up, I'm sorry," the trembling woman hiccups, voice barely more than a babbled whisper.  
  
Susan ignores the words, choosing instead to lead her wrecked friend to the couch. She gently pushes Maggie down, but doesn't follow, confusion and distress churning in her own gut.

_THOUGHT: She knows that a healthy person can function with a loss of 15% (1.8 pints) of the normal blood volume (12 pints), and that one can stand to lose 5 pints total without dying. She wonders, though, how many tears a person can shed before they cease to be._

Before she can move away, to get a glass of water or a box of tissues or _anything_ to get a little distance - a little space - Maggie reaches out and grabs her shirt, using it to pull her close so that the seated woman can bury her damp face in Susan's stomach.  
  
_THOUGHT: Her entire being is screaming for her to wrap herself around Maggie and comfort her, but she knows she has to be careful now. She wants it_ too much, _and her own want and Maggie's needs are getting confused in her head._  
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just…” the crying woman whimpers, clutching her body close, hiding herself in Susan.  
  
Like Susan is trustworthy, like she is a safe place.  
  
_THOUGHT: If Maggie is this devastated, then somewhere, Kara must be equally as distraught. Susan hopes Kara has someone with her too. She will make the appropriate communications later to be sure._  
  
“Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay. Just breathe," the agent soothes, hands automatically coming to caress overheated skin and cradle hunched shoulders.  
  
“I-I-I can’t. I’m gonna do something stupid. If I leave, I don’t know-” Maggie breaks off, gasping, crying harder, losing the little control she has left.  
  
It frightens Susan, who remembers J'onn's face when he had come to the D.E.O. after spending long hours with Maggie in the hospital. He had been deflated, ashen, looking smaller and more helpless than he had since Alex had died.  
  
_THOUGHT: Maggie is desperate. Maggie has no one else she trusts to see her like this, except maybe J'onn. She has no choice but to be here for her friend._  
  
_THOUGHT: She is going to have to call out of work - she can tell this is not something that even a good, long sleep can patch up enough to function._  
  
Looking down at her friend, Susan makes a decision.  
  
With gentle pressure, she guides Maggie to lie on her side on the couch, then joins her, facing the other woman and pressing close so that they touch all along their fronts.  
  
_THOUGHT: No matter what Maggie needs, Susan will do it. She has no choice. She will stand guard - she will protect her, even if it is from herself._  
  
“I won’t let you. It’s okay, just, breathe and hold onto me.” Maggie latches on immediately, shifting down so she can bury her face in Susan's ribcage. “That’s it. I have you.”  
  
The sound of Maggie crying is the most heart wrenching sound Susan has heard in a long, long time.  
  
“I have you.”  
  
_THOUGHT: I love you._  
  
  
  
**SOME MONTHS AGO**

Maggie and Kara are fighting. Again.  
  
It's about Alex. Again.  
  
This time, Maggie calls before coming over, and when she shows up she is more angry than anything else. (Susan can't tell if she is angry at herself or her lover, but this seems better than being inconsolably sad, so she counts it as progress.)  
  
They sit on Susan's couch and Maggie rants, not really saying much, just blowing off steam, and not for the first time, as she provides the voice of reason, Susan feels a little swell of resentment that she has become the Cirano of her own story.  
  
Maggie stops talking suddenly, like she can sense what Susan is thinking. The air feels heavy, buzzes with... _something._  
  
They look at each other for long moments, Susan's throat closing up, her heart dropping into her stomach.  
  
Her head is oddly, completely silent - _waiting_.  
  
"Sometimes I wish..." Maggie starts, but then sighs and trails off, looking away with something like guilt on her face.  
  
The swirl of Susan's thoughts come back, stinging her mind like wasps.  
  
Equations and snippets of conversations she remembers from the day and points on her to do list all crash into her like angry waves. They are a jumble, she feels like she is drowning, and it takes all of her self control not to gasp at the sudden sweeping weight of herself.

Maggie clears her throat, fiddling with the remote for the TV even though it is off.

Before either of them can say another word, there is a knock at the door, soft, almost hesitant.  
  
Woodly, like a mannequin, Susan gets up and checks, both relieved and irrationally annoyed that it is Kara.  
  
She lets the blonde in. She gets a hug for her trouble, before Kara walks in and she and Maggie exchange words, then both women are leaving, hand in hand.  
  
Kara hugs her again, then moves so Maggie can do the same.  
  
She does, a lot more tentatively.  
  
"I'm, I'm sorry Vasquez," the detective murmurs against her cheek. "I didn't mean-"  
  
But Susan is pulling away, mortified that she is fighting tears.  
  
Maggie's earlier not so innocent half-said sentiment, and now her half-assed apology have changed something.  
  
Susan _hates_ that Maggie never uses her first name. She knows it's an attempt to keep her distance, and it hurts after all they've been through. She hates that she cares.  
  
She feels _raw,_  like she has no skin and everything is an assault on her senses - her emotions. She feels like she did when she died (it was brief, only 30 seconds on the operating table) and was forced to come _back._  To _survive._  It was weeks of physical and mental anguish, and she never wants to go through that again, even for a moment.  
  
"Susan?" Kara asks, worried, moving as if to step forward towards the agent.  
  
Susan forces herself to still, to feel _nothing_ again.  
  
She says some reassuring nonsense, and it must be convincing enough because they both leave.  
  
Out of the miasma of her mind surfaces one clear thought:  
  
_Fuck you, Maggie Sawyer, and fuck me too._

  
  
  
**WEEKS AGO**

 Maggie sends her flowers. She throws them away without reading the card.  
  
(She then pulls the flowers from the garbage, filled with guilt that they had died only for her to disrespect them like that. She takes them to the receptionist at the library with the sweet, shy smile.)

  
  
Maggie has Winn give her a nice bottle of gin. She lets it gather dust on the floor under the coffee table.  
  
(She, in a rare moment of extroversion, invites someone home from the bar. They don't make it to the bedroom - she prefers it that way - and as they lay recovering on the couch, he spys the bottle and indicates his interest and she lets him have his fill, then take it with him when he goes.)

  
  
Kara tries to talk to her about what's going on, but Susan is nothing if not a master of deflection via stolid professionalism, and pretty quickly the blonde gives up.  
  
(She feels vaguely guilty at putting up a wall with Kara; the younger woman hasn't done anything wrong. But she just knows if she lets Kara in then it is only a matter of time before she lets Maggie in, and she just... can't. She isn't angry anymore, just tired. Tired and alone.)

  
  
Maggie sends her high quality art supplies, paper and charcoal and pastels and erasers and setting sprays. Things Kara must have picked out because Maggie is hopeless at these things.  
  
(She can't bring herself to get rid of them but also can't use them. She hides them safely away in her closet, where she doesn't have to see them.)

  
  
Maggie stops by. She stands at the door, biting her lip and wringing her hands. She looks incredibly nervous and deeply sad.  
  
Susan waits on her side of the door, unable to move.  
  
Maggie sighs deeply, scrubbing at her face harshly, then turns and walks away.  
  
(Susan had been on her way to the kitchen and had seen a shadow under her door. She'd quickly grabbed a hidden side arm and crept to the door, peering through a secondary peephole. Maggie hadn't knocked, hadn't done anything but stand and look mournful. Susan's heart clenched hard in her chest, but she didn't open the door or call after her.)

 

Maggie comes to the bar ( _her_ bar - The Trainyard) and corners her by the restroom, not saying a word as she reaches out and draws the agent to her. Susan doesn't struggle but doesn't return the gesture.

Maggie holds on for long moments before pulling back and looking into her eyes.  
  
Susan can't breathe. Her stomach is a ball of ice, and her bones are lead.  
  
"I'm sorry. For everything. I-I care about you, and I don't want to lose you. Please?"  
  
Susan's eyes close and the breath rushes out of her in a pained whoosh. She can't deny Maggie anything, no matter how badly she wants to.  
  
"Okay."

  
  
  
**TODAY**

The fact that they had managed to convince Director Henshaw to have a company picnic meant the world was ending, Susan was sure of it.  
  
The merriment at the alien bar is just an extension of the day.  
  
The boys jostle for control of the jukebox. Anderson gets control, and like a gentleman offers the next choice to Winn, who smiles obliviously and weedles James about it. (Susan may have to clue the junior agent in soon, if only to save the D.E.O. from having to deal with Vic in full wooing mode.)  
  
J'onn chats with the bartender, waiting for his turn at the pool table, where Kara and Maggie try to outdo each other.  
  
Susan feels that pang of bittersweetness when she looks at them, but it's more sweet than bitter right now.

  
  
_THOUGHT: They really are good together - have been near perfect since they visited Alex the last time._  
  
_THOUGHT: She can't really bring herself to begrudge them their happiness, even though she wishes..._  
  
_THOUGHT: Her time off has been approved. Within the next month, she'll be warming herself on the beach with her sisters, letting her younger brother drag her to book readings, and her parents take her to the latest chic restaurants (her father was a cook and second oldest brother a chef and both could get into all the most desirable and exclusive restaurants anytime and eat basically for free)._  
  
_THOUGHT: She hadn't told anyone but Dr. Chase, but she is seriously considering transferring back to the desert base, under Director Lane's command. She has nothing but respect for J'onn and her colleagues in the city base, but... She's already gotten approval to transfer Kara's training. She hasn't told the blonde yet, hasn't found the right words to express how proud she is of her friend, how much she cares about her, and how much it hurts her to be around her all the time._

  
  
Kara and Maggie cede the billiard setup to J'onn and James, who begin to play a silent, respectful game of Nines. The men have bonded in their own way, and the affection is clear.  
  
_THOUGHT: It's been a long day of socialization and she is feeling worn out, frazzled at the edges and a little achy at the socket of her prosthetic._  
  
The two women make their way over to the booth where Susan sits nursing her beer, content to watch but not participate. Maggie slides in beside her, Kara across. For a second she is reminded of warm summer nights back home, surrounded by her friends and her siblings.  
  
The ache is worse, but there is a bit of contentedness to the moment too.  
  
Maggie leans back and slides her arm across the back of Susan's seat.  
  
"I have some vacation time coming up. We were thinking of going to the beach next week sometime. You, uh, interested?"  
  
Susan opens her mouth to tell them no - that she is leaving the week after next for home, that as much as she loves them and has been working towards being okay with being around them it would be a lot, that it isn't fair to ask that - but Kara looks so hopeful and Maggie is close and relaxed like she hasn't been in so long and she can't bring herself to do anything but nod.  
  
"Great!" Kara says, bouncing in her seat and reaching across the table to take Susan's hand and toy with her fingers happily.  
  
_THOUGHT: She is a coward._  
  
Maggie gives her a one armed hug and leaves her limb firmly wrapped around Susan's shoulder. Kara doesn't let go of her hand.  
  
They chat, sometimes with her (Susan later can't remember what about or what her responses were) sometimes bantering with each other.

For all her inner turmoil and elation, Susan's head stays mostly quiet.

  
They close out the bar and walk Susan home, one on either side, occasionally bumping into her they are so close.  
  
For a moment, she forgets that they don't feel about her how she feels about them, lets herself be consumed by the gentle warmth of their company.  
  
When they part at her door, she lets them both hug her, Kara kissing her cheek as is her custom now, Maggie squeezing her gratefully.  
  
"This was... it was good to spend time again, Vaz-" Kara elbows the smaller woman. "Susan."  
  
Susan raises an eyebrow but allows a smile.  
  
"It wasn't terrible, detective."  
  
"Goodnight Susan," Kara sing-songs, pulling a blushing Maggie away.  
  
"Goodnight Kara."  
  
She doesn't sleep. She opens her closet and takes down the art supplies Maggie gave her all those months ago, takes charcoal and pastels to paper instead.

At the end of the night she has two completed pieces. She has two goodbyes.  
  
_THOUGHT: She is a coward, but, she is no fool. Something is going on. Something with the potential to wreck them all._  
_  
THOUGHT: She will complete the transfer request after training. She will keep them all safe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next:
> 
> Kara's had a very long, no good, completely overwhelming day, and Maggie is out of the city on business. Kara/Vasquez
> 
> Any questions, toss them in the comments!


	4. PART FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's made the decision. She's going back to the desert base. It's for the best, for everyone.
> 
> ****
> 
> A family visit, and Earth Birthday test Susan's resolve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 1: See first chapter for disclaimers.
> 
> AN 2: Susan is a genius, but she is also only (a fictional) human. She would have doubts and internal strife like the rest of us, where she flesh and blood. If I am clumsy in expressing that, I apologize in advance.
> 
> AN 3: Two more chapters to go, guys...
> 
> AN 4: As always, I have no beta. Sorry not sorey.
> 
> AN 5: I got a moving comment on the last chapter about Susan and depression and the way I was portraying her struggles. It touched me, truly, but also made me want to say a few things:
> 
> 1\. I am in no way a mental health professional (tbe opposite probably). I studied psychology in university but that only really does two things: convinces you (wrongly) that you have ALL THE THINGS in the DSM, and, convinces you (rightly) that EVERYONE could benefit from working with a mental health professional, regardless of their level of success at coping with life. Life is hard, and everyone needs at least a little help, and there is zero shame in that.
> 
> 2\. I am not a genius or a soldier. I have my own depression and anxiety, which I use and explore in my writing all the time. 
> 
> 3\. Vasquez traumas far outstrip my own. I am no expert in that level of ptsd. I did some research, and I can only hope I am being respectful in the way I am approaching writing about it.
> 
> 4\. As much as I weave in a lot of Vasquez interacting with and trying to cope woth her mental illness, the primary goal of this fic is to work through my poly-feels from the last fic. I will continue to be as authentic to what I feel is Vasquez struggles, but I am tryna get to that Kara/Vasquez/Maggie spot and I may have to do things like time jump or speed things along. I will never write "and then she was all better and they got to the sexing" - it isn't my stylen and it is straight up bullshit - but I may not go as in depth as absolutely possible regarding the depression and anxiety.

She doesn't end up going to the beach. She can't.  
  
The night before she discreetly puts in for OT and J'onn approves. She spends the day running diagnostics on D.E.O. systems and writing new security protocols for when she is gone.  
  
She's made the decision. She's going back to the Desert Base. It's for the best, for everyone.

 

Before she leaves on her vacation, J'onn takes her up to the cabin. It's a much quicker journey now that he has revealed his true nature and can fly them there.  
  
Over fresh shepard's pie, he asks her - once - if she is sure.  
  
Susan doesn't have to say a word in response, the man is psychic, but she does him the courtesy.  
  
She doesn't tell him _everything_ , but she says enough to confirm what he already guessed, and a little more than that to reassure him that she will be alright. He looks both melancholy and proud when she is done, and he places a large warm hand over hers.  
  
"This choice you're making, it seems like the best one for you professionally. You know that of all my agents, I trust your judgement the most. I will support your decisions, always, but... I also want you to think about what would make you happy. Take a few months out there and _really_ give that thought. Lucy will be lucky to have you back out on the sand while you do."  
  
Susan's throat is tight with emotion, something that is happening more and more these days. It's like her emotions are waking up from a long, coma-like slumber. They are rusty and odd, not responding like they should, filling her with confusion.  
  
"Sir, I... There is no solution for what I want. What I want, it... I can't have. That's okay."  
  
J'onn chuckles, though it is a little sad. He nods, accepting her will without any pushback.  
  
"Humans," he says simply, turning his eyes towards the small shelf of games. "Should I set up the board?"  
  
Pain, thin and sharp, lances through Susan's stomach. She hasn't played Go since... since.  
  
"Would it be alright if we, uh, changed the game?" she asks, voice soft, catching uncharacteristically.  
  
"Of course, Susan." J'onn agrees easily, squeezing her hand one more time before standing and moving over to the games. "Chess?" he asks.  
  
She nods.  
  
They play three games. She loses all of them. He doesn't say a word, but when he drops her at home, he follows her in.  
  
She doesn't turn on the light, doesn't even take off her coat or shoes. Just walks to the couch and sits down.  
  
For the first time in years, literal years, she breaks down in tears.  
  
J'onn sits next to her, still silent, and wraps a strong arm around her shoulder. She doesn't fall into him like she wants to, but she does lean her head on his shoulder. He holds her, sure and steady.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: It hurts to cry, even though she is doing it mostly silently. She hasn't cried since... since Alex died. And before that, not since Val._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: That's not strictly true. There was one other time she cried between those. It was after the botched op, when her rookie got hurt. She cried then, because she knew her life would really never be the same. She cried for herself._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She doesn't know now if that is what's happening, or if she is crying as a physical reflex to being able to_ feel _again. She can't be sure. She isn't certain which one would be better._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She wonders what Val would say about all of this. Probably something snide and a little mean to cover her concern, or something so heartbreakingly sincere that Susan would be startled out of her tears._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Her appointment with Dr. Chase is scheduled for the next day, a sort of kick off to her vacation, and she has_ no _idea what she is going to say anymore, because she has no idea how to parse through all of her emotions to get at the truth._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She calculates that it will take Winn approximately four days to find and hack the little program she loaded onto his workstation - a parting gift. She's been developing the program for months and hopes he likes it._

_THOUGHT: Everyone knows she is going on vacation but, she hasn't told anyone that she isn't coming back. She hasn't known how to say goodbye. She hopes Kara won't be too angry. As complicated as things are, Susan doesn't know if she could stand for the younger woman to be angry at her. (Not that she is planning on seeing her anytime soon.)_

  
She goes home. Her family welcomes her with open arms.  
  
Her father asks if she wants to play Go and she stops being able to breathe for a second. A veteran himself, Raphael Vasquez recognizes a trigger when he sees one and quietly puts the game away. They talk about life, his and hers, though she can never be specific. They eat amazing food and drink good rum and smoke expensive cigars. They play dominos for a while, and when Junior comes home they switch to Parcheesi.  
  
Her mother pulls her aside and tells her that her hair needs a trim and that no child of hers would be walking around with dead ends like that. A hairdresser for 40 years, Maria Vasquez  is not one to be argued with about these things. She sits her middle child down and gets the good scissors out, as well as the clippers. She tells Susan that whatever is bothering her, she knows her baby will figure it out. That she is proud of her, no matter what. That she loves her, no matter what. She doesn't ask any questions, just snips and talks, and in the end Susan has the cut that she prefers (long enough to style on top, but low on the sides and back) and a warm feeling in her belly.  
  
All of her sisters and three of her brothers come home with their families. (All but the youngest brother, who is currently deployed in Afghanistan.) There are so many new nieces and nephews for her to get to know, and so many older ones to get to know again. She is declared the coolest Tia _ever_. She is surrounded by little bodies with sticky hands and crying babies for days. For the first time in half a decade, she remembers what it is like to feel safe and warm and something like unconditional love.  
  
There are days at the beach, and days at museums, and days at the park. She wishes she had a longer vacation, but is grateful for the time given. The trip is everything she could have hoped for and more. She is ashamed that she hasn't been brave enough to visit in almost five years.  
  
The whole time she is there, she receives two texts from Kara and one from Maggie. They read:  
  
  
_SUNNY DANVERS: sorry you couldn't make it to the beach. hope you have a great time !!_ _  
_ _  
_ _SUNNY DANVERS: send us pictures of la familia Vasquez? :D_  
  
and  
  
_THE DETECTIVE: When are you coming home?_  
  
  
She doesn't answer any of them.  
  
  
When she has to go back to National City, Susan promises to come back for Thanksgiving and Christmas. She leaves with a phone full of pictures to use as inspiration for new pieces, and a warm tan on her skin. She leaves vibrating with energy and nerves.  
  
  
She's at the Desert Base for almost two weeks before she sees Kara again. She's managed to see Dr. Chase three times since then. She has said aloud some of the things that have been swirling around in her head, though she still has no idea what to do about them.  
  
Seeing Kara so soon is like a strike to the solar-plexus. She isn't ready.  
  
The blonde looks exhausted, like she hasn't had sun in days. She floats in behind a strike team, escorting a pair of vicious looking shapeshifting E.T.s.  
  
She looks up at Susan, face morphing from happy to sad to confused before settling on anxious in the span of seconds. Even from across the room, Susan sees her hesitate.  
  
Nodding ever so slightly, the shorter woman attempts a reassuring smile. She doesn't think she succeeds, but Kara looks relieved and begins to make her way over so it must have been enough.  
  
"Hey," the superhero says, voice soft and hopeful.  
  
"Hello, Supergirl," Susan replies, feeling like her skin is thin and new, like her feelings (so intense and raw right now) could leak right through like sweat.  
  
Kara rubs the back of her neck, nervous but also clearly a little relieved.  
  
Susan feels guilt stab, sharp and small, into her stomach.

"Can I, uh, ask you a favor?" Kara whispers, eyes a little wide and moist like she's been rubbing them often or like she may cry.  
  
_Of course, ma’am_ , is that Susan means to say, to reassure and also to tease a little, maybe scare away that sad look, but also keep her distance. "Anything," is what comes out of her mouth, however.  
  
Kara sags, air leaving her body in a whoosh that ruffles Susan's clothes a little and brings a chill to the air. She interlaces her fingers, gripping and releasing them nervously.  
  
"I... Maggie's not home this week, she's at a conference and I-it's been a long week and... can we do something tonight? Please?"  
  
She is talking so quietly she might as well just be breathing, but to Susan it still feels like a shouted accusation.  
  
"Kara, I-"  
  
The blonde waves her hand, embarrassed.  
  
"I'm sorry, I meant, I-" A soft sigh. "I miss you."  
  
"Kara..."  
  
Kara looks down, seems to hold her breath, like she's done something wrong and is waiting for the punishment.  
  
It hurts Susan's heart to see. She clears her throat, waiting until Kara looks up at her before speaking.  
  
"I miss you too, Kara."  
  
"Oh. Ok."  
  
The agent forces a grin onto her face, around the jitters and ache in her stomach. She wants to comfort her friend, to take that worry and hurt that she _knows_ she's caused away.  
  
"I don't have plans for after work," she finds herself offering, not knowing where it comes from but feeling relief at the words.  
  
"Oh, uh, really?" Kara asks, clearly trying not to seem too interested.  
  
It's cute, and Susan can't help but chuckle.  
  
"If you're free, would you want to do something?"  
  
Kara doesn't say a word, but the look in her eyes and the small but genuine smile on her face are enough of an answer.  
  
  
They meet up after Kara's training.  
  
Susan cooks, eggplant parm and steamed vegetables and fresh garlic bread, because she's in a mental place right now that is right for creating and eating. Kara assists, hovering a little but mostly helping.  
  
They eat in relative silence, and Susan watches the tension slowly ease from the younger woman's shoulders. She wonders how she's been but can't bring herself to ask, acutely aware that the reason she doesn't know is her own fault.  
  
Kara insists on washing the dishes, which makes Susan a little uncomfortable, but she doesn't have it in her to stop her. She dries, charmed when Kara hums under her breath and occasionally bumps her shoulder.  
  
They end up gardening this time.  
  
Susan gets her bluetooth speaker out and syncs her ipod, but she lets Kara make her own playlist. (She's never, ever let anyone do that before, is fiercely protective of her music and electronics, but it makes Kara smile and any discomfort she feels is mitigated by the real joy she brings the other woman.)  
  
They pull weeds and plant small sprouts ready for the raised beds in Susan's shared backyard late into the evening. Kara is even more beautiful, and more alien, in the red of the waning sun.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: It's been almost a month since she's seen Kara. Stress aside, she looks good. Happy. Beautiful in the red of the setting sun and covered in smudges of rich earth._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: It's been ages since she's done something like this with anyone. Not since she was a teenager, living at home, and her Abuela Juana was alive. It's... peaceful. Fulfilling in a way she thinks is inappropriate. It makes her heart feel light even as her stomach begins to feel heavy._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She feels the almost comfort of the numbness lapping at the back of her mind, like an automatic defense her body has against the threat of... of feeling too much. She considers giving in to it. It would be safer for them, for_ herself _. (As if she has control over it, as if she can choose. As if...)_  
  
  
Kara looks at her as they work, sometimes smiling, almost peaceful, sometimes thoughtful, like she wants to ask Susan something but doesn't know how, and sometimes like she can hear the struggle going on inside the agent. Like she understands it and is fighting not to say anything. It is unnerving but also, maybe a little comforting.  
  
Either way, Susan appreciates that Kara doesn't break the fragile trust they have built up over the course of the evening, in the middle of rich dirt and young green plants.

 

_THOUGHT: She isn't sure what would be better, the thick layer of distance between what she feels and what she can experience in the moment, or, the jagged sensitivity of these experiences._

_THOUGHT: She has discussed this with Dr. Chase. Not endlessly, but it has come up a few times. Miriam suggests that the more Susan is able to parse through her trauma, the more it will happen. Feeling emotions like razors against her tender skin. That it will take as much time to learn to cope with feeling things in a way that isn't painful as it takes to learning how to cope with the pervasive depression. That things will never, ever be like they were before, but that it doesn't mean things won't be better than they are now, or that she won't find a new equilibrium that works for her._  
  
_THOUGHT: Susan understands this is part of living with PTSD (Shell Shock her father calls it, because he is from the old school and they are both soldiers in a long line of soldiers). She knows this is as much a battle as what she saw overseas or during her time as a field agent. She has coped by being professional, staying busy, being efficient - leaning into the symptoms as virtues, as ways to stabilize herself - and she doesn't know what will happen if she changes that now. She is... afraid of going back to that place where she almost lost herself to the raging storm of emotion and pain. She doesn't know how to_ be _anything but what she is anymore._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: The way that Kara looks at her sometimes, and the way Maggie treats her, sometimes... sometimes it makes Susan want to try._  
  
  
Kara shuffles her feet when they come back inside, scuffing her toes against the floor (seemingly mindlessly, but Susan knows how so very careful the superhero has to be about _everything_ she does, all the time) as they wash up.  
  
Susan knows Kara is hesitant about going home, about being alone. They have the opposite problem in that way.

  
  
_THOUGHT: With Kara and Maggie, though, Susan never feels the need to break away, to be alone. Or at least, that isn't her first impulse. They have a warm, almost comforting effect on her. Like a well worn sweater, soothing. Except that they aren't hers - not in_ that _way - and so she knows she has to pull away._ That _is stressful, and painful, and what makes her pull away. She knows better than to ever be involved in that kind of drama; her mother didn't raise a homewrecker or a fool._

  
  
"Thanks for everything," Kara murmurs, chewing on her lower lip.  
  
_You’re welcome_ , Susan wants to say. "Anytime," she says instead.  
  
_Well fuck_ , she thinks.  
  
Kara smiles then, small and soft, and hugs her, hands still damp from when she cleaned the dirt from under her fingernails. She leaves a lingering kiss on Susan's cheek, near the curve of her jaw (still technically a safe zone, but _just_ close enough to her ear to send a fissure of electricity up her spine).  
  
"I don't know what you're going through right now," the blonde says quietly, not pulling away yet. "Just please, if you need us, don't shut us out? We really care about you and want to help if we can."  
  
Susan knows Kara can hear the way her heart speeds up and her hard, uncomfortable swallow.  
  
"I... will keep that in mind?" She whispers back, too uncentered to pull away or do much more than take a shaky breath.  
  
She is proud that she managed not to wheeze, which would be beyond mortifying.  
  
Kara nods, the motion brushing their cheeks together, and pulls back a little, so she can look into the smaller woman's eyes. She smiles that smile that is like the sunrise, slow but steady and warm.  
  
"We're friends. You said so, right? So if I can help you... no pressure, I promise, but please don't hesitate to ask?"  
  
Susan can only nod.

  
_THOUGHT: The warring feelings of sanctuary and terror she is experiencing are short circuiting her brain. She wants to ask Kara to stay - it's been longer than she can remember since she felt this... secure - but the guilt rears its head again (Kara, like Maggie, is not hers, and she is dancing on the edge of inappropriate)._ _  
__  
__THOUGHT: Maggie is away and Kara is loyal to a fault. There would be a better chance of Susan suddenly getting superpowers than Kara cheating on her partner._  
  
_THOUGHT: There is no way Kara doesn't understand what she is doing to her right now. She has a certain thoughtlessness to her sometimes, not malicious but a bit like she never fully learned all the universal rules about boundaries and so has to learn them over and over again with each person, but she's not stupid. Kara is brilliant even. She and Maggie have almost certainly spoken at length about what is acceptable in their relationship._  
  
  
Susan blinks, unable to look away for long from the sincerely, gentle smile for long moment.  
  
_THOUGHT: Oh._  
  
"Kara, I-" she starts, but the superhero shakes her head minutely and hugs her close again before pulling away.  
  
Something settles in those blue eyes, like Kara has the answer to a long standing question, or maybe has come to a decision.  
  
"I am going to go home now, okay? But, if you're up to it, I would very much like to have you over for dinner when Maggie comes back?"  
  
Susan doesn't know how to respond, overwhelmed with the realization of what could be happening.  
  
_THOUGHT: This... This was not something she expected, at all. She wonders idly if this sort of thing is (_ was _) more common on Krypton._  
  
Kara nods to herself, brows furrowed in determination and backs away a step.  
  
"See you soon, maybe?" She asks, but it sounds more like a promise.  
  
Snapping out of it just as the blonde reaches the door, Susan shakes her head to clear it.  
  
"Kara, wait," she calls, then hurries into the bedroom.  
  
She comes out a few moments later with two wrapped frames to see Kara leaning again the open door, clearly going for casual but the way she nervously picks at her sweater gives her away.  
  
"Here," the agent says, offering the parcels. "I meant to give these to you before I left on vacation. I... made them, for the both of you."  
  
"Susan... I... thank you," Kara whispers.  
  
She seems shocked and touched, eyes widening.  
  
"You're welcome, Supergirl. Wait until you get home to open them."  
  
"Oh, yeah, right! Of course."  
  
Susan can tell she is doing her best not to use her x ray vision by the way she keep her chin tilted up a little so she can't look over the tops of her glasses. It's cute, and makes the dark haired woman bite back a sigh.  
  
Moving the gifts to one hand, Kara hugs Susan one last time, lingering, burying her nose in the agent's hair and breathing deep like she is relieved to be able to do so.  
  
Then she's gone, and Susan is left half collapsed against the doorjamb, shivering ever so slightly at the loss of contact.  
  
_  
__THOUGHT: Now though, she has to at least admit the wicked little truth that has been circling through her mind for months. She's in love with Kara Danvers. It's not a revelation - it's pretty understandable considering - everybody falls in love with Kara Danvers._ _  
__  
__THOUGHT: The second wicked little truth is harder to confront, but it isn't completely unexpected either, considering the last few months. Kara has feelings for her too._ _  
__  
__THOUGHT: Combining this with the already complicated situation with Maggie is... a lot._ _  
__  
__THOUGHT: Soon enough Kara would be home and opening the drawings. She'd understand then what they meant. This... is the right decision. What Kara seems to be offering is... too much. Susan can't handle it. She wants to (God, she wants to) but she doesn't know how to handle her_ own _mental state. She can't even fathom being charged with the delicate balancing act of navigating not one, but_ two _partners needs._

 _THOUGHT: Even if she wanted to, even if she could handle that, she isn't sure she could give them what they want from_ her _emotionally. She is... she hates to even think_ broken _(she has worked so hard to get to where she is), but she isn't what she would consider capable of_ this. _It is too much. She knows she can't be what they would need, and as much as that hurts, she isn't willing to set herself up to fail._

  
Taking another shaky breath, Susan pushes off and moves into the house, closing the door behind her.  
  
She has work in the morning. She should go to bed.  
  
She changes clothes quickly, before she can talk herself out of it, and is out the door within 10 minutes. She reaches the Trainyard before the wax in her hair has set.  
  
Her hands tremble, and she puts them in her pockets, nodding to Sam as she sits at the bar.  
  
He nods back and goes about pouring her drink, gin and lime with a little sugar around the rim of the glass, and she flashes a wan curl of her mouth in thanks.  
  
"Oh the house," Sam says, eyes sympathetic.  
  
For once she doesn't argue. She hates the idea of not paying her way, comes from a big family of hard workers who almost never accept any sort of help even when they need it, but today... she could use the kindness.  
  
Her grip on the glass is hard, so as to fight the soft shaking of her fingers. It works for the most part, though she is legitimately worried about shattering the glass.  
  
"You're wrong, you know," J'onn says, not so much startling her as making her brain freeze in confusion for a moment.  
  
"Sir?" She asks, automatically falling into her role as his agent.  
  
"You're enough," he says simply.  
  
She looks over to where he should be, but, there is no one there.  
  
"I... I'm losing it," she mutters to herself, fear racing through her like an electric shock. "I am losing my mind."  
  
She pulls out her phone, ready to make an emergency call to Dr. Chase. She has unopened text messages, received over 12 hours ago. (She really should check her phone more often.)

  
  
_THE DETECTIVE: Hey, I know we're... I dunno, radio silent or whatever, but it's Kara's Earth Birthday today and it's... a rough day for her._ _  
_ _  
_ _THE DETECTIVE: She and Alex always celebrated together. I asked if she was okay but, could you possibly check on her? She's being all brave about it, but I worry._ _  
_ _  
_ _THE DETECTIVE: You know what, sorry. I'll ask J'onn. I... I hope you are doing okay._

  
  
Her stomach lurches.  
  
Earth Birthday.  
  
She slams back the rest of the drink and is out the door like a shot. She makes it to Kara's house like she's the one that can fly.  
  
Kara opens the door on the first knock, eyes red rimmed and puffy, nose a little runny. She's beautiful and tragically sad.  
  
"I'm sorry, Kara," Susan says, not waiting to be invited but stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind her.  
  
Kara shrugs a little, sniffling and wiping at her face.  
  
Susan spies the paper that wrapped her offerings and winces. Not the best day for _that_ gift.  
  
She moves forward and takes Kara into her arms, holding her close. She feels the blonde tense then slowly relax, until she is curled around the agent's body, shivering as she cries silently.  
  
Susan makes soothing noises in her throat and moves them to the couch, easing them down, first to sit then onto their sides. Kara snuggles into her, burying her face in Susan's chest, and the agent is struck with a sense of deja vu.  
  
They lay there for over an hour, until Kara has calmed enough to offer to take Susan home.  
  
The dark haired woman declines.  
  
They move to the bedroom, where Kara gives her a set of pyjamas, and turns so Susan can change.

Kara, Susan knows, runs hotter than humans do. What she discovers is that Kara sleeps like a particularly grabby octopus, all her limbs securely wrapped around her bed partner. It's like having a clingy electric blanket that is stuck on high.  
  
Susan is always cold, the scar tissue especially sensitive to temperature.  
  
_THOUGHT: They have to talk about this now. Susan has to make Kara understand why this won't work out on the long (or even short) run. But, not tonight._  
  
Susan sleeps better than she has since she can remember. In the morning Kara is gone, a note under a to go cup of tea on the kitchen counter reading:  
  
  
_Had to fly (super serious Super business)._ _  
_ _Thanks for..._ everything _._ _  
_ _Can we... talk about the drawings? Please?_ _  
_ _Please don't disappear again?_ _  
_ _Hope the tea is still warm when you wake up._ _  
_ _Love,_ _  
_ _KARA_

Susan brings the well insulated cup to her lips. It smells strong but smooth.

  
_THOUGHT: She supposes that she owes it to Kara to at least talk about things, even if they can't go further._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She supposes she owes it to Maggie and herself to talk about things too._  
  
The tea is still hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: 
> 
> Lockdown at the Desert Base, and Maggie, Kara, and Susan finally have that conversation.
> 
> Any questions or concerns, throw em in the comments.


	5. PART FIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smoke is starting to clear from the hallways, and the agent is able to just make out the movement of dark shapes at the far end. They are still too far to tell who, or what, they are, but Susan lives by a motto drilled into her by all of her combat instructors - prepare for the worst, don't bother hoping for the best, because if the best were an option she wouldn't be there. 
> 
> ****
> 
> An attack interrupts a very awkward, inappropriate for the workplace talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 1: See 1st chapter for disclaimers.
> 
> AN 2: I this chapter is long, and I STILL am adding an extra chapter to get the ladies where they need to go.
> 
> AN 3: This is the peak of the angst and hurt people. I promise, though there is at least one more tough conversation in the following chapter, it gets gentler after this.
> 
> AN 4: I havr no betas, as always.

She had promised Kara that the three of them could talk, but, this is not exactly what either of them had in mind.  
  
The klaxon alarms are continuous, blaring angrily over the CCS. There is _definitely_ something wrong with them - maybe a side effect of the hack-job the Area 51ers pulled on the system. (It is embarrassing that these crackpots have managed to pierce the elaborate security protocols, even partially as they have, but also a little impressive - Susan won't be surprised if a new recruit appears in the next week or two.)  
  
"Put more pressure on it," Maggie commands, voice a little higher pitched than normal, but still impressively calm considering.  
  
"I'm fine, detective," Susan assures, wincing as she shifts so she can peek out the gap in the door.  
  
"Goddamn it Vasquez, would you just _listen_ for once?" Maggie growls.  
  
The smoke is starting to clear from the hallways, and the agent is able to _just_ make out the movement of dark shapes at the far end. They are still too far to tell who, or what, they are, but Susan lives by a motto drilled into her by all of her combat instructors - prepare for the worst, don't bother hoping for the best, because if the best were an option she wouldn't be there.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: She and Maggie are holed up in the last conference room in the briefings wing, across the hall from a supply closet, and about ten feet and around the corner from the hallway that lead to the small prison guard armory (not to be confused with the main armory across the base, which outfitted missions) and the first of three entrances that led to the prison wing._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: Though she was now second highest ranking agent stationed at the Desert Base, Susan liked to spend at least one rotation a week - usually OT - in the prison wing itself. Usually this meant she was posted in the Warden's office pro-temp, but every once and a while she managed to get onto the floor itself. She had been finishing up such a shift, not quite done with disarming herself, when Kara had come out of nowhere and spirited her away to the conference room. Maggie was waiting for them there, and in less time than it took to get her bearings, Maggie was insisting that they needed to talk and Kara was asking her if she wanted to maybe, possible go on a date with them that weekend. That's where and when chaos had descended._  
  
  
Swallowing a groan, Susan ties a piece of cloth (a dark handkerchief she keeps in her right calf pocket for situations like this) around the ragged wound on her left forearm one handed, running through the list of supplies she and Maggie have at their disposal in their impromptu shelter.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: There were three guns in the room: one police issue glock - Maggie's; one 9mm Sig Saur semi-auto with hollow point bullets, and, one 9mm Barretta with experimental rounds, bullets based on Intergang technology with a charge that made them hit like a grav weapons (both Susan's). Maggie had a switchblade hidden in her boot (highly illegal but, most NCPD officers carried a gravity blade on them in case their guns ran dry and they had to face down something bigger and meaner than the average street criminal) which Susan knew because she had seen the smaller woman slip it into place more times than she was comfortable admitting._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: There was usually a small cache of weapons in a safe in the wall that could be accessed via clearance codes, but it seemed that the half successful infiltration had invalidated the normal clearance codes. So, for the time being they were stuck with what they had already available._  
  
_THOUGHT: It had been one hour since the lights had flickered and gone wonky and most of the locks had disengaged. It was fifty-five minutes since internal communications were interrupted and fifty minutes since the first wave of freed prisoners made their way as far as the conference room. Susan, Maggie, and Kara had managed to fortify the room and incapacitate over a dozen prisoners, but it wasn't enough. Kara had left them forty minutes ago to make sure the guards were okay._

_THOUGHT: It has been thirty-five minutes since what could only be called an infantile attempt at a manifesto was read over the CCS (the message as generic as these people got, the voice changing technology a joke), and in that time Susan has managed to patch into the emergency computer system via the briefings terminal. Crafting an encoded message - a distress signal, with all the information she has, including last known positions of key D.E.O. - she sends it out, hoping the nutjobs haven't found and disabled the secondary distress system. The hack will have already  triggered an alert at the City Base, but giving Director Henshaw as much information as possible is key._

_THOUGHT: Injured in the initial skirmish, she barely noticed the pain or blood at first, but whoever tagged Susan did it with claws that had some sort of anticoagulant property to them. Though Susan hasn't lost enough to really matter, Maggie looks more and more worried with every minute that goes by, and the agent is beginning to get that curl of queasiness in her stomach that means she should figure out a way to stop the flow sooner rather than later._  
  
  
"I can go for help," Maggie offers for what seems like the 80th time in the last ten minutes.  
  
Susan resists the urge to roll her eyes.  
  
"It's better to wait here until we get a signal from Director Lane, or until the fighting gets closer," she replies, also for the umpteenth time, wiping the sparse sheen of sweat from her forehead with her good hand. "Otherwise we leave ourselves open to attack."  
  
Susan is intimately acquainted with this possibility. It aches deeply how much like Val that Maggie can be sometimes.  
  
She won't make the same mistakes again.  
  
"You're hurt, Vas," Maggie says softly, voice full and frustration and guilt. "You need help."  
  
"What I need, _detective_ , is for you to listen. In about six minutes either the cavalry or the enemy will arrive outside our door. We hold this location until then."  
  
It's been years since Susan has had to use her   Command Voice - she's been taking the orders as Lead Con Officer for so long - but it comes back to her easier than breathing deep after being underwater.  
  
Maggie's back straightens a little, almost to attention, before she glares and forces herself to relax.  
  
"You aren't my boss, you understand that right?" She hisses, just this side of dangerous.  
  
A sudden rage (but maybe not sudden, maybe something that has been building), icy and dark rises up from Susan's stomach and into her chest.  
  
She feels as if everything is spinning, spiralling out of control, as if she and the situation are about to combust and destroy everything she cares about. She has to try and bring it back to heel.  
  
"When you signed the NDAs and agreed to become liaison between the D.E.O. and the NCPD, you agreed to follow command structure as long as you were in our jurisdiction. This is a D.E.O. facility engaged in lockdown protocol, and I am the commanding officer in this room. Hold. Position."  
  
Maggie's jaw clenches, works hard, making her look almost like she wants to spit.  
  
"You're that fucking scared, huh?" Maggie asks, deflating, looking exhausted. "Even after all this time, you don't trust me to handle myself and have your back?"  
  
The question confuses the anger but doesn't defuse it - now that it has been roused, there is no coaxing it gently back to sleep. It will have its ugly say first.  
  
"You haven't yet," Susan snaps, regretting the words immediately but still bristling with ire.  
  
Maggie's head rocks back as if she has been slapped, and she blinks hard and fast.  
  
"... well fuck Vasquez, tell me how you really feel." The detective tries to joke, but her voice is too soft to fool even herself.  
  
"This is not the time or place, Detective Sawyer. They will be on us in under five minutes."  
  
Maggie nods, face grim, and raises her gun to cover the door.  
  
They crouch in tense, hurt silence for over a minute, before the smaller woman breaks it.

"I, I know I fucked up, Susan. I know I suck at talking things out and trusting people, but... You gotta know I'd never hurt you on purpose."  
  
Susan's eyes flicker over to the other woman briefly, noting that the detective's attention hasn't wavered from the door. Her throat bobs though, she is clearly hurt.  
  
"Three minutes," Susan says instead of responding, the anger in her body twisting, mixing with guilt in her heart and the pain throbbing up her arm.  
  
_THOUGHT: She can feel all the words she has been biting back surging up her throat, readying to spew out of her mouth in a torrent of fear and fury. But as she told Maggie,_ now _is not the time. She has to use more concentration than she would like to keep herself in check._  
  
_THOUGHT: She wants to reassure the other woman as much as she wants to tear into her. She's so hurt though, proud but also scared of what forgiveness entails._  
  
"It's not all my fault," Maggie continues, eyes and gun still steady on the door. "I, _we_ \- Kara and I - have been trying to _talk_ to you for a while now. _Months._  But you just, you keep dodging us. You won't give us a chance."  
  
Susan closes her eyes, partially in exasperation and partially in shame. A cold feeling winds its way from the gash on her arm, up into her torso, and she feels sick to her stomach. Dizziness sweeps over her, and she is suddenly much more afraid.  
  
Things are worse than she realized.  
  
_THOUGHT: By her estimation, Susan has lost about a pint of blood now, and the bleeding has only sped up, the queasiness in her stomach becoming full fledged nausea. She isn't so sure that if she doesn't get medical attention within the next half hour or so that she will need to worry about that conversation._  
  
_THOUGHT: She makes a promise to herself that if they all make it out of this, she will do her best to tell them how she feels, and to listen to what they have to say. No promises on what will follow, but she owes all three of them the chance to clear the air._  
  
The noise of the fighting is close now, and Susan can just make out Director Lane barking orders.  
  
"When you can separate the hostiles from the agents, don't hesitate," Susan orders, forcing her exhausted eyes open. She unholsters her Barretta. "Use this. Don't hit one of ours, because these rounds are guaranteed to maim at minimum." She takes a deep, shaky breath. "I trust you, Maggie. I... I trust you."  
  
Maggie looks over and Susan tosses her the gun, swallowing hard. Her own hands are shaking - she knows she can't be trusted with the experimental rounds, and knows Maggie is practically a crackshot.  
  
"Jesus, you look like shit..." the detective breathes, catching the weapon and holstering her own.  
  
Before Susan can respond, the battle reaches them.  
  
Maggie turns back and takes aim, squeezing off two shots in rapid succession. There are echoing BOOMs in the hall, the sound of big bodies slamming into the walls with astronomical amounts of force.  
  
"Holy crap, these bullets are _insane_!" Maggie cackles, looking over at Susan.  
  
A huge, scaly, clawed hand reaches through the opening in the door and yanks the woman out with a grunt and the crack of her arm smashing into the wall on the way out (broken for sure).  
  
Susan doesn't think, she acts.  
  
She's out the door in seconds, managing a roll that takes her across the hall and lands her back against the wall.  
  
Her gun is up, finger on the trigger as the sight lines up with the deep groove between the hostile's eyes. (They've been taught to shoot to wound, shoot to incapacitate, but Susan was a trained soldier first, and a sniper at that, and a soldier's first priority is to keep their people alive.)  
  
The hostile is down, a smoking quarter sized hole in it's head.  
  
Maggie lands with a thud on her side but manages to tuck and roll and pop back onto her feet. She miraculously still has the gun in her hand, and squeezes off another two rounds to send three hostiles crashing away.  
  
"Report," Director Lane barks, stabbing her stun-knife into the last of the hostiles in the hall.

The E.T., which looks mostly human but hairless and about twice as big as the woman who took them down, twitches and passes out.  
  
Agent Vasquez reports, pausing only once to shoot a large, carapaced hostile bounding towards them. (She catches it in the shoulder joint, blowing away one of its many arms.) She starts at the top, at coming off of guard duty, and reports through rescuing Maggie, leaving out some choice details about what Kara and Maggie had wanted with her, but otherwise being comprehensive.  
  
Director Lane sighs, checking her gun for ammo as her agent finishes filling her in.  
  
"Good to know Supergirl is securing the prison wing. If anyone can contain that mess, it's a Danvers. Not sure if your message made it out though Sue - they made a charlie-foxtrot of all our systems."  
  
Moving closer to Maggie, the agent puts up her weapon, the hall secure enough (no viable hostiles, six other agents and Director Lane covering the area) for her to more formally assess her friend's injury.  
  
Maggie mouths 'Sue' at her, bratty to distract herself from the pain of her very clearly broken arm.  
  
"I'm partially to blame, ma'am," Susan replies, biting back a smirk at the detective's antics even as she reaches out to test the arm.  
  
Lucy raises an eyebrow. "Explain."  
  
"After Brainiac 8 decimated our security protocols, Director Henshaw ordered Agent Schott and I to design a hidden sub-routine that would be activated if we ever suffered total system takeover again, or in the event of system corruption of over 60%. It was designed to lock everything down and metaphorically throw the key into a vat of acid. There are only three ways to bring control back online, though manual overrides still apply."  
  
Lucy snorts, half impressed, half annoyed. "And they are?"  
  
"Ow, fuck!" Maggie shouts, breathing harsh and fast through her teeth.  
  
"I'm... not at liberty to say outside of an official briefing, ma'am." Susan says, reaching into another pocket and pulling out a thick, long stip of cloth to secure Maggie's arm to her body.  
  
"Typical J'onn," Lucy mutters, scrubbing at her face with a tired hand. "How's the forearm, Susie Q?"  
  
Susan makes sure Maggie's arm won't jostle in the makeshift sling, gently squeezing the smaller woman's good hand with her own.  
  
"Not great, honestly," she admits, real fear tightening her gut and making her voice thinner than she'd like. "The bleeding isn't stopping. I've lost... not an insignificant amount of blood. I'd estimate another half hour before I'm incapacitated."  
  
Maggie makes a sound at the back of her throat, somehow managing to convey her fear and her anger at once.  
  
"Shoulda let me get help," she pants, moving to stand.  
  
Director Lane snorts, helping the injured detective to her feet and leaning her against the wall, before moving over and motioning for Susan to show her the injury.  
  
Agent Vasquez presents her arm with a calm face but clenched teeth. It hurts pretty bad now, and the sick feeling has intensified exponentially since she joined them in the hallway.  
  
"Jesus Susan," Lucy breathes, discarding the soaked handkerchief and assessing the wound.  
  
The skin around the clawmark is livid red, feverish to the touch, and it bleeds steadily.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: She hadn't seen what had tagged her in the fray, but if she had to guess, Susan'd say it was Subject 34229 - a strange, mammalian being that looked almost like an armadillo, except about the size of a large child and with razor sharp teeth. She (they had determined to the best of their ability that the E.T. was female, mostly because when captured she showed signs of having recently given birth) secreted a gnarly toxin from glands under her tongue - which she spread onto her claws by licking them - that, among other things, thinned blood._  
  
_THOUGHT: It could also have been Subject 22582 - another E.T. like the insect hostile Susan had shot (which had been Subject 22559). The venom in their mandibles was potent. If that was the case, though, she would be experiencing heart failure anytime now._

 _THOUGHT: The treatments for those scenarios were_ wildly _different. Mistreatment could result in death._

 _THOUGHT: It has been a long time since she has updated her living will. There are more nieces and nephews and one less uncle to consider. And, of course, J'onn and Lucy, and Maggie and Kara..._  
  
  
Director Lane's face goes hard and professional - full Major. "Let's get this situation sorted then, Agent Vasquez."  
  
The smaller woman opens a pouch low on her leg, plucking out two packages of sterile gauze. She rips one open with her teeth and removes the roll.  
  
"Ma'am," Susan agrees, not flinching when the dry cotton is pressed against her torn flesh.  
  
She takes over holding it down quickly.  
  
Director Lane opens the other package and winds it firmly around the quickly reddening wad.  
  
"We managed to secure Central and capture the idiots that were waiting around upstairs," the commanding officer says, making a small tear in the gauze so she can tie it off. "We need to get to Kara. We need to do a manual lockdown of the prison wing."  
  
_THOUGHT: A manual lockdown of the entire prison wing would be challenging on a good day. Today was decidedly_ not _a good day._  
  
"Yes ma'am. Should I take over the Con or flank?" Susan asks, ready to follow whatever orders she receives.  
  
"Are you fucking serious?" Maggie interrupts, face pale as a sheet as she pushes off the wall. "You _just_ said you had half an hour before you are out. You need medical asap, Vas."  
  
Agent Vasquez straightens up to her full height, almost at perfect attention.  
  
"If we don't secure the prison, it's a moot point detective," she replies, voice hard and impersonal with exhaustion.  
  
_THOUGHT: She can REALLY feel it now, the blood loss._  
  
The team the Director brought forms up. Lane motions Agent Simmons to take point, and Agent Choi posts up second. (Susan can tell Lucy is itching to be first, but she holds back, sending her best agents at hand to do their job, trusting them). The Director herself takes third, and Agent Tanner next, with Maggie and Susan in the middle, and the three remaining agents (Quick, Hunter, and Anderson) bringing up the rear.  
  
"The lockdown terminal at the back of the room in the guard station. Insertion maneuvers until we reach target, assume the worst case scenario," Lane barks, loading the chamber of her Barretta. "Since we've only encountered a dozen hostiles, let's bet that the rest are still inside. Weapons free but aim to incapacitate unless you have no choice."  
  
A mostly simultaneous chorus of 'Copy' ripples down the line.  
  
"Okay people. We can't count on Henshaw to show up with the cavalry. Assume Blue is down as well." (Susan's chest tightens at the thought - she hasn't let herself think it before now, but the possibility is high - and Maggie whispers a quiet, 'please be okay.') "Move out!"

They are a battered but well oiled machine. Even Maggie moves in line with the rest.  
  
They are inside the prison wing within seconds, the sounds of battle booming, like thunder somewhere deeper inside.  
  
The first containment entry has been obliterated to the point that there is no easy way in. They manage to find a way to squeeze in near the end of the hall, except for Quick and Anderson, who are too large with their gear to fit through.  
  
Agent Vasquez enters right on the Director's heels, gun up and at the ready, but beginning to shake with the blood loss. Lane looks back once over her shoulder and gestures that Vasquez is to stay on her. The agent nods in acknowledgement.  
  
Kara - Supergirl - is a whirlwind of awe inspiring  motion and strength. She fights at least a dozen hostiles at once, never stopping long enough to let them grab at her, always using her body and motion to corral them towards the middle of the space. She uses strategy from her training, uses the hostiles against each other in the limited enclosed area.  
  
She is wounded, somehow, bleeding from a split lip and sporting a nasty black eye.  
  
She is amazing.

The team moves into defensible positions to cover them as they go. Without prompting, Maggie joins Agent Choi against the wall, kiddie corner to the first row of wide open cells, laying down suppressive fire.  
  
Susan is sandwiched by Lucy and Agent Hunter as they all hustle to the terminal.  
  
Six hostiles peel away from the main horde attacking Kara to come for them. Mostly humanoid E.T.s with makeshift weapons and feral rage descend on them.  
  
The three D.E.O. agents form up and move together, Agent Vasquez going into an almost fugue state of action drilled into her through training. They take them on, don't let them get too close, forcing a wedge in their wall-like charge so that the path to the guard booth is clear.  
  
More hostiles take notice of the humans around the room even as Susan notes all the guards posted in the wing - the people under her command, whom she left less than an hour ago mostly safe and sound - are dead. Slaughtered and scattered about the space like broken and bloody toys.  
  
The rest of the team, having secured positions with their backs to the wall around the front half of the space, lay down enough cover fire that Susan and her team make it to the objective almost completely unscathed (Lucy is gonna need some stitches to keep her forehead from scarring, but the damage is superficial).  
  
It is simple enough to activate the manual protocol once they are inside - Susan could do it in her sleep - and the results are immediate.  
  
The gravity increases to something almost painful, forcing all the humans and most of the E.T.s to lie down on the ground. (It doesn't do Susan or Maggie any favors, the agent's wound weeping more readily as the detective cries out as her arm is subjected to the increased weight.) Gas begins to mist into the air, a mixture made to put down the E.T.s unaffected by the change in gravity. Last, forcefields reinforce the outer walls, trapping everyone inside, then segment the wing itself wherever there is empty space, so that the inmates are separated.  
  
Within three minutes, nothing is standing or flying except Kara, who wobbles as she lands.  
  
"Susan? Lucy? Oh my god, Maggie!" the Kryptonian yelps, trying to get to her lover but bouncing off the forceful. "What's happening? Maggie? Oh god Susan, you're bleeding!"  
  
Kara's voice is high and a little desperate as she calls out.  
  
"I'm-I'm okay babe. Just a little banged up, okay?" Maggie assures, voice thready, almost a whimper.  
  
Pressed tightly to the floor, Susan can't see her friend's struggles, but she can hear the almost electric sound of the blonde woman striking the force field over and over again, literally trying to beat her way out of containment.  
  
"Stand down, Supergirl," Director Lane commands, voice coming out muffled by the floor. Kara doesn't listen, bashing harder, grunting with the effort. "They're okay for now, Kara. The extraction team will be here within ten minutes."  
  
"Susan? Please, say something?" the superhero begs, panting (the agent imagines she has gone from punching to pushing now, trying to overwhelm the system with constant force).  
  
"S-s'okay, Supergirl," Susan manages, nausea curdling her stomach. "Just, stand down."  
  
Her arm is throbbing, the floor around it soaked in red.  
  
The room is beginning to blur around the edges, and breathing (already difficult under the increased gravity) becomes a struggle.  
  
With the last of her strength, Susan manages to reach up and key some memorized commands into the terminal she collapsed near. Almost instantly, the increased gravity releases. The force fields hold, but the gas and the pressure ease off.  
  
Maggie lets out a quiet sob at the change, and Susan feels it in her chest. This is a complete cluster-fuck.  
  
_THOUGHT: Susan isn't overly sentimental, but the noises of Maggie's pain and Kara's desperation make her ache as much as the wound on her arm._  
  
_THOUGHT: She tries to think of what she could have to to prevent this - all of this - but the blood loss makes her thoughts slow and heavy like molasses._

"Susan? Susan, look at me," Maggie demands, voice echoing and sounding far away.  
  
"I'm alright," the agent responds, doing her best to roll onto her side in case she vomits.  
  
_THOUGHT: She is confident that if the extraction team arrives and gets her to medical (to blood for transfusions and anti-venoms and equipment to properly seal her wound) within the next ten minutes, then she will survive. The chances decrease dramatically after that, maybe 15% to 17% for every minute._  
  
_THOUGHT: She is terrified. She has so many regrets. She doesn't_ want _to die..._  
  
She heaves and retches, emptying her lunch all over the floor and her own shoulder and chest.  
  
The sizzling pounding of Kara beating the forcefields starts up again.  
  
"If... you short... the field, the... whole... system goes..." Susan chides, mostly grateful when the sound stops again. (A little part of her had hoped that she meant enough to Kara for her to risk it, but it is only the smallest part of her. Mostly she is thankful the younger woman listened.)  
  
"How long do you estimate until you pass out and we draw on your face with sharpies, Sue?" Lucy asks, in that way that makes Susan positive she just wants to keep her talking and awake.  
  
Susan tells her the estimate (now 8 minutes) and the numbers after.  
  
She hears Kara start to cry, not loud wails or hiccuping sobs, but quiet, despairing exhales. Susan imagines the blonde is thinking of Alex now, and it hurts her to bring her friend that kind of pain.  
  
"S'okay," the agent mumbles, blinking long and slow, using every ounce of willpower to stay conscious. "There's time."  
  
Breathing seems unnecessary now, too much effort, but Susan struggles to do it anyway. The pain is constant and full body now, pulsing with her heartbeat.  
  
"I'm sorry, Vas," Maggie says, and there are tears in her voice too. "I fucked up. I used you, and I was a coward. And I am so sorry."  
  
"I'm sorry too," Kara says. "We-we should have talked to you sooner. We shouldn't have let you push us away."  
  
_THOUGHT: She won't have them air their business where the information can reach enemy ears. If nothing else, she can protect them that way._  
  
"Not the time," Susan manages to croak. "But, I'm sorry too. Tell me... tell me later, okay?"  
  
She forces her head up, forces herself to look at them one more time. She doesn't really believe in heaven or hell or any of that - she made her peace with giving that up in exchange for pretty girls and aliens and the amazing life she has had, and that's okay. But, she knows this lassitude spreading through her body.  
_  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She won't make it until the extraction team arrives. She's dying._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She miscalculated (she forgives herself the error, considering the blood loss and poison raging through her body)._ _  
_ _  
_ _THOUGHT: She would prefer her last experiences to be taking in two of the people she cares for the most._  
  
  
She goes limp, not losing consciousness but much too tired to do anything other than lie there and breathe.  
  
Maggie and Kara call to her, crying out, begging her to move and speak and do _anything_ but she is just so tired.  
  
Lucy is silent, but Susan knows she is panicking too, clinging to the timeline the agent gave her.  
  
The extraction team arrives ten minutes later, and Susan manages to stay awake until they lift her onto a stretcher.  
  
  
When she wakes, it's to the nightmare feeling of being heavily sedated and without her prosthetic, under the scratchy weight of hospital sheets.  
  
For a moment she thinks she's back _there_ again, and she begins to panic, heart rate monitor going berserk as she gasps and tries to force herself up. (She hasn't opened her eyes though, not yet, she's too afraid of what she'll see.)  
  
A much too warm hand gently rests on her shoulder, pushing her back down.  
  
"Sshh, stop fighting - you'll hurt yourself again," Kara whispers, resting her cheek against Susan's for the briefest of moments before pulling away. "Please, just, rest..." she almost begs.

Susan forces her eyes open now, looks up at the blonde, whose blue eyes are rimmed in red from crying.  
  
"You... okay?" She asks, voice rough and dry.  
  
She coughs a little, and it sends pain through her. The pain is almost comforting.  
  
Kara is a mess, laugh like a thick, wet bark.  
  
"Says the woman in the hospital bed," she teases, but nods.  
  
"Maggie?" the agent asks, fear spiking again.

She knows this isn't like _before_ , it isn't like Val and Alex, but she knows that in her head and not in her chest or her stomach. She is desperate to see for herself.  
  
"Mostly good," the detective replies, moving into her line of vision from somewhere deeper in the room.  
  
She reaches out with her good arm and takes hold of Sudan's hand, interlacing their fingers hard enough that Susan knows her fear was shared. Her other arm is in a thick cast, tucked against her chest with a black matte sling.  
  
Susan opens her mouth to speak but Maggie shakes her head.  
  
"We'll talk later. You rest now. We'll be here until they let you outta this joint."  
  
Tears spring to Susan's eyes, sudden, and there's a feeling of mania that rolls over her.  
  
"I'm still angry," she admits softly, and Maggie nods. "But, I need you both to understand - I care. I... I care about you both. Please... don't..." She trails off, not quite sure what she wants to say.  
  
_THOUGHT: That's a lie. She wants to shout, beg, 'never put yourselves in danger for me!' But, she can't. It's not really what she means, just what she feels bubbling up inside._  
  
_THOUGHT: What she really means is 'don't give up on me,' and 'don't leave me alone,' but she doesn't know how to feel those things clearly anymore, let alone how to express them to these two women, who have wormed their way into her life. These women she loves but whose lives and relationship she doesn't understand how to fit into._  
  
"It's okay," Kara assures, smiling weakly. "We're here. We aren't going anywhere, okay?"  
  
Susan's gratitude is like a living, breathing thing.  
  
She closes her eyes and exhales, relaxing as Maggie squeezes her hand tighter and Kara soothes warm fingers over her equally warm forehead.  
  
She sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters, y'all.
> 
> Next up: The ladies FINALLY have that talk. 
> 
> Guest appearances by SpaceDad J'onn, bratty brother Winn, protrctive Lucy, and gentle, concerned friend James.
> 
> Any questions, toss 'em in the comments.


	6. UPDATE

Hello all.

First off, I wanted to say - DON'T WORRY - I have NOT abandoned this story. We've come too far for that, and also, I have more to say here.

Real life, work, and deadlines have been coming at me from both sides, and that means I had to put this on the back burner for a while. I will be returning to it in a few weeks, when things let up a little.

In the meantime, if you have any questions, throw them in the comments section. 

Thank you so much for your patience!


	7. PART SIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's in Medical for almost a month (3 weeks, 5 days, 8 hours, 42 minutes), and not once does she wake up alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 1: See first chapter for disclaimers.
> 
> AN 2: Getting to the end now. The worst of things has passed, whew!, now time for recovering...
> 
> AN 3: Holiday time can be rough. Please take care of yourselves and each other out there.
> 
> AN 4: As always, I am beta-less. All mistakes are my own.

The Talk and all it entails is postponed until Susan is out of the hospital, but that little detail doesn't stop Kara and Maggie from... doting isn't quite the right word, but certainly being _attentive_ of her.

 _THOUGHT: To be fair, it's not just the two of them, it's_ all _of them._

She's in Medical for almost a month (3 weeks, 5 days, 8 hours, 42 minutes), and not once does she wake up alone.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: It was the overgrown armadillo and not the hellscape insect that got her. They were able to determine it from footage rather quickly, with treatment coming_ just _in time. (_ Too damn fucking close _, Maggie will complain much later, when Susan is home and safe between her and Kara on the couch, but she will still send the good whiskey to the lead doctor and homemade cookies to Lucy and the extraction team leader.)_  
  
_THOUGHT: The venom burned its way through her, lingering in her soft tissues. She recovers, but Maggie is right, it was too damn close, and it takes many, many treatments to flush the poison and set her on the path of recovering the damage._  
  
_THOUGHT: She is right back to the hyper sensitive twitching that plagued her_ back then _, and it is a miracle she doesn't spiral completely back to her worst headspace._  
  
_THOUGHT: Maybe not so much a miracle. More the unexpected, constant, and consistent support..._  
  
  
Usually it's Kara at her side, working on her laptop or reading, and sometimes just staring into the middle distance with a dazed, shell-shocked expression on her face. (Susan would be comfortable betting she's thinking of Krypton then, of her mother and father, and maybe her aunt Astra - she has that look about her of someone that has lost everything and has somehow continued living.)  
  
Usually, as soon as the blonde notices Susan is awake, she puts aside whatever is in her hands, or snaps back from wherever she's gone, and smiles with genuine if exaggerated enthusiasm. She takes the injured agent's hand and asks her if she needs anything, and distracts her from the discomfort of tubes and burning chemicals and scratchy sheets with stories about how Winn is still trying to figure out how to shut off the Hanson that pipes out of his laptop whenever he turns it on and how J'onn is cranky because only Susan remembers to refill his cookie stash and James has taken to training with her in the mornings before work.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: Susan hadn't really let herself understand how much she missed seeing Kara everyday, but after the second time waking up to that sunny smile she can't help but burst into tears, shocking the superhero and herself. They are tears of relief - relief that someone is there, yes, but also that_ Kara is there. _That she cares enough to come back - to stay. Susan can't find it in herself to be embarrassed, but she does feel shy for a while_.  
  
  
Sometimes it's Maggie, who more often than not is collapsed, unconscious after a long shift, across the bottom of the bed and Susan's legs. Susan lets her sleep, hating that she is charmed by the light snoring and the way the detective's good arm reaches up to tangle in the sheets over the agent's stomach, like she needs to feel her breathing even in sleep.  
  
Sometimes Maggie is awake. Those times are awkward but oddly endearing. The detective doesn't say much (her eyes speak volumes, and the way she clenches her jaw and her fists open and closed tell Susan that the other woman is doing her best to keep everything in and just be there for her), but she brings Susan books, reading to her at first when she realizes the agent can't concentrate, then bringing her own book and reading silently when Susan is able to read to herself again.  
  
Sometimes Maggie falls asleep reading like that, and her head ends up on the bed near Susan's shoulder.  
  
Sometimes Susan can't help but shift so their temples rest together, a ghost of a touch, just enough so that she can fall asleep too (and maybe hope to stay that way).

 

 _THOUGHT: If Kara being there is a relief, then Maggie being there is a_ realization. _She_ care _, and not just because it suits her mood to do it. She cares about Susan regardless of how difficult and time consuming it can (will) be._  
  
_THOUGHT: Susan doesn't know how to process this though, so she doesn't. She just accepts it as it comes, allowing herself to be as open or closed as she needs from moment to moment. (She isn't being cruel, just cautious, and she allows herself the space to be so.)_  
  
  
At least twice a week Susan opens her eyes and finds one of the boys there.

 _THOUGHT: She's begun to think of them as_ her _boys in the last year, but_ that _is still a bit too new and tender to really analyze so, she just tries not to think directly about it at all._

Winn brings his laptop and mutters into his headset about 'goddamn Hanzo mains!' until he notices she's awake, then sits with her and lets her play around with his coding projects. On the third week he brings her the new security protocols he is working on, even though she is strictly forbidden from working.

_THOUGHT: Susan thinks about her dead younger brother Ernesto and her heart aches in a way that feels like it's growing._

James comes with tea and cookies, sneaking them in like contraband, and gossip. He more than anyone understands the value of observation (Susan is an admirer of his work behind the camera more than his work on the street as Guardian) and knows she misses being connected to everything that is going on.  He tells her that Winn turned Anderson down gently, that Lucy refuses to let anyone near Susan's old station (her poor temporary replacement has to stand at the secondary Con), that there is going to be a _huge_ surprise party when she comes back (he knows she doesn't care for surprises when she can avoid them).  
  
He tells her everything that she would know if she were standing at the Con, and it is more nourishing than the tea and cookies. He tells her about it all and it is clear that she has not been replaced, that she is missing and _missed_ .

_THOUGHT: James has a way about him that brings Susan a sort of relaxed energy, like the feeling you get after laughing at a particularly funny joke. Even when she is still weak and exhausted, she finds that she is glad to see him._

J'onn comes and brings a mini chess set with him. It's the kind with little magnets in the bottom, meant to be used in the car, nothing fancy but it gets the job done.  
  
They talk about what is happening in the City Base, they talk about Susan's plants, which he has been caring for. They talk about repairs to the cabin. He kindly doesn't comment about Kara and Maggie's almost continual presence, though he gives her a reassuring nod whenever he leaves one of them with her.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: Susan has never felt included in the group that jokes about Director Henshaw being their SpaceDad - she's always felt a strong professional kinship to him, and has had nothing but the utmost respect for her commanding officer. She's never_ needed _to be included in that way, because as much distance as she has unintentionally put between herself and her family back home, they have always been there for each other, have always supported her. Except now it is clear that J'onn cares for her in a way that goes beyond superior and subordinate, and she finds that she doesn't mind. It's..._ nice _to be regarded so warmly by him, in a way that she has never understood._

_THOUGHT: She should have realized it earlier, when he took her to the cabin the last time at least, but while Susan has always been good at recognizing her value as a soldier and an analyst and as a worker in general, she has never really thought of herself as loveable to anyone that wasn't required to do so. She's never thought of herself as someone who others could value outside of the skills she brings to the table._

_THOUGHT: It's why she and Agent Danvers were friends, they both had a bit of a complex that way, and it's why Val had been so adamant about forcing her way into Susan's life, like she could prove to the other woman's subconscious that she was worth it through sheer willpower._

  
  
Director Lane comes and cleans her hair, lotions her arms and leg, and clips her nails. She helps Susan to the tub in Medical the first time the agent is allowed to bathe in water, letting the injured woman soak for a time after she manages to clean herself.  
  
All she asks in return is that Susan consider coming back to the Desert Base.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: Lucy is no nonsense, treating it as business, like a commander making sure her soldiers are up to regs. There is no shame at needing help or giving it between them, and not once does the smaller woman try actively to put Susan at ease, instead only talking when necessary and being steady and thorough with her assistance. Susan would die for her._  
  
  
She starts physical therapy in the third week, working at first without a prosthetic (hers was damaged in the assault on the Desert Base, and she has not been stable enough to calibrate another). It is gruelling - excruciating to her hyper sensitive nerves, exhausting for her mind - but it is a welcome change from the monotony of lying on her back for weeks on end.  
  
She refuses to let anyone except the doctor and nurse be present. She can tell it hurts Kara some not to be able to be there for her, but Maggie gets this look in her eye like she understands, and doesn't let Kara insist.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: Susan wishes she was beyond feeling shame at being so weakened, but the truth of it is that she has very little dignity left, and she can't bear the thought of any of her friends or colleagues seeing her struggle like this._  
  
_THOUGHT: She would never judge someone else for it, and isn't blind to the hypocrisy in it, but she decides to be kind to herself. She doesn't owe them her suffering, and so she goes through the PT alone._  
  
  
When they finally release her, it is to rest at home and come in for more PT daily. It seems almost too soon, and also like she has been in Medical for an eternity.

_THOUGHT: Susan is almost positive that either Lucy or J'onn pulled some strings to have her released a little early, and she makes a mental note to get them something as a thank you._

Kara and Maggie insist on being the ones to take her to her apartment. Kara carries her bags - full mostly of meds to take at home and gifts she's received while laid out - and Maggie drives her car. Susan is securely buckled into the backseat, tired just from the walk from the wheelchair to the vehicle.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: Despite being tired, and how badly her muscles and lungs burned, Susan made it to the car on her own power, her steps never wavering._  
  
_THOUGHT: Her hands shook, and she had to make fists of them to keep it from being noticable, but she made it all the same._  
  
  
The first thing she notices is that her apartment is cleaner than when she left it. It wasn't a wreck to start with, exactly, she had been keeping up with the dishes and taking out the trash, but it had been awhile since she had dusted, for sure, and she had allowed herself the luxury of piling up books on hee coffee table instead of putting them away. She had also left a few sweaters and shirts laying around - not dirty enough to be washed yet, but not clean enough to be put back in a drawer or hung in the closet - and she could swear she had dragged her comforter onto the couch.  
  
"Hope you don't mind," Maggie says, rubbing the back of her neck. "We figured coming home to tidy place might help?"

Going into someone's space without them there could be an intrusion, or it could be an intimacy. Susan has the right to be angry, but really, apart from being a little annoyed that they had probably misfiled some things, or used the wrong detergent for her clothes, she finds that she is relieved more than anything. The fact that they had taken the time to care for her home as they cared for her created a small, warm bubble in Susan's stomach. She doesn't feel violated - feels safe and supported instead - and she chooses to retroactively give them the clearance to be in her space.

  
"Thank you," she says, moving to sit on her couch.  
  
The fabric looks almost new - she has a feeling someone took a steam cleaner to it.  
  
"Are you hungry? Or thirsty? Or maybe sleepy?" Kara asks, clearly anxious as she chews on her lip and bounces up and down on her toes.  
  
"Come on babe, let her breathe, huh? She's been home for like, 5 minutes," Maggie chides, but her eyes keep cutting to Susan like she is waiting for the slightest direction to carry out.  
  
"Can I be honest with you?" Susan asks.  
  
Kara nods enthusiastically, blue eyes widening in that way that they have when she is ready to take in every detail.  
  
Maggie inclines her head once, lips twitching to the side like she is ready to hear bad news. "Always."  
  
Susan takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.  
  
"I want to talk - I promised myself that the minute I got out of Medical, we would talk about... _everything_ . But, I'm not ready. I don't want you to leave, but I can't give you what you want right now." She looks at them both in turn, suddenly exhausted. "I know that isn't really fair, but there it is."  
  
  
_THOUGHT: She thinks this should be harder - assembling the right words to say what she is feeling. She hasn't really been in the habit of it for so long. But apparently, all it takes is the knowledge that Kara and Maggie are not going anywhere for Susan to feel safe enough to be vulnerable._  
  
  
Kara nods again, moving forward so that she is beside the couch.  
  
"May we sit?" She asks, including Maggie in the  statement even though the smaller woman stands awkwardly by the door, like she's ready to run at a moments notice.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Frowning, Kara looks at her girlfriend and jerks her head towards Susan and the couch.  
  
Now it's Maggie's turn to take a deep breath, as she makes her way over to the other side.  
  
The two other women sit on either side of Susan, close enough that she can reach out and touch them if she likes, but far enough to give her a sense of personal space.  
  
"You almost died," Kara states, not ducking the harsh reality of the situation. "You spent _months_ avoiding us - actively running - and then almost died."  
  
Susan looks down, equal parts shame and exasperation swirling around in her head. Before she can get to caught up, though, Kara reaches out and takes her hand, holding it oh-so gently in her own.  
  
  
_THOUGHT: Kara's hands are so warm, chasing away the chill of over exertion in Susan's shaking fingers._  
  
THOUGHT: Kara cradles Susan's hand more than holding it, like it's made of something delicate. Like she's afraid of breaking it.  
  
  
"We pushed you when you clearly didn't want to open up before. We... were impatient. We should have let you come to us. I'm sorry for that," the blonde says, expression vulnerable. "I hope you know that, we just want to be here for you - however you need."  
  
"If you never want to talk, that's okay," Maggie adds, hands flexing and tightening like she wants to reach out as well.  
  
She doesn't, a pained look flashing across her face for a second before it goes back to a more neutral expression.  
  
Kara smiles earnestly. "Whatever you need, okay? No pressure. We promise."  
  
Maggie nods. "No matter what."  
  
Susan offers them a wane smile, still too tender to accept this emotional moment gracefully.  
  
"These unspoken expectations have hurt us all, but I don't have the energy now to have the conversation." She says, voice strained, almost wobbly.

"That's okay," Kara replies immediately.

"We just want to be here for you now. We can figure the rest out later," Maggie adds. "You're my best friend, Vas. Everything else, it's real, but _that’s_ what matters most."  
  
Susan takes a long time to answer, looking back and forth between them. She decides to be brave, and as kind as she can be to all of them.  
  
"I'm tired," she says finally.  
  
Maggie tenses, ready to stand, but Susan reaches out and takes her hand.  
  
"When I woke up in Medical, after... after Val, I was alone. I spent weeks recovering alone, doing PT alone, and when I could go home, I came home to an empty apartment. My plants had died. It was just... me. I felt like a ghost in my own life, just... drifting. Untethered." Susan's voice catches.

 _THOUGHT: It's odd, because Susan doesn't feel like crying - she isn't panicking or crushingly sad or confused - but tears are sliding down her cheeks all the same._ _  
_

_THOUGHT: She realizes that she is relieved._

"Oh Susan," Kara murmurs, reaching up to wiping the moisture off the agent's face before jerking her hand away.  
  
Susan smiles a little, and continues. "When I woke up in Medical, this time, I _wasn’t_ alone. I _feel_ that. I may not have the capacity to have this conversation fully now, but I would be a coward if I didn't tell you both. I _feel_ how much you care. And it makes me feel safe enough to ask you for time."  
  
Kara is nodding enthusiastically, smiling through tears of her own and gently squeezing Susan's hand.

  
  
_THOUGHT: Susan imagines that Kara is using the strength one would use when trying to safely handle an infant, or maybe even a butterfly tangled in something. So soft and gentle._

_THOUGHT: She wonders how long it took Kara to master this, to learn how much pressure to use._

Maggie closes her eyes and swallows hard, looking ashamed.  
  
"All the time you need," she says, opening her eyes again.  
  
The look in them is fierce, like the detective would protect her from anyone or anything that threatened harm, even if it was herself.  
  
Susan nods and lets go of Maggie's hand so she can cup her cheek.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
She lets them both go, and struggles to her feet.  
  
"What do you need," Kara asks, jumping up, all nerves now, like Susan is going to collapse at a stiff wind.  
  
Susan knows not to take it personally. The Kryptonian has lost so much in her life, and from her perspective, human beings are so _fragile_ .  
  
"Sleep," the agent says, putting a soothing hand on Kara's arm. "Sleep and my medicine. And for you both to go home and get rest."  
  
Kara looks stricken, like the thought of letting Susan out of her sight is too much to bear.

_THOUGHT: Susan is going to have to talk to J'onn about what the other women were like when she was going through the worst of it. And maybe talk to Kara aboit considering speaking with Dr. Chase._

"I'll be okay. You can come check on me tomorrow, alright? No earlier than noon."  
  
Kara opens her mouth like she is going to protest, but Maggie has stood and is already tugging her towards the door.  
  
"Okay. We changed your sheets, and we'll be back tomorrow with some homemade soup," the smaller woman says.  
  
"Wait, wait, wait!" Kara exclaims, carefully pulling away from Maggie.  
  
There is a _WHOOSH_ of air and a blur, and then Kara is nodding to herself.  
  
"Okay. There are meds and water and crackers on the bedside table now, and your phone is plugged in and on your pillow. If, uh, if you need us, please call?"  
  
Chuckling, Susan nods. "Okay, Supergirl."  
  
Kara's mouth is turned down at the corners, and she is clearly upset as she carefully hugs Susan.  
  
"Want help to bed?" She asks, clearly trying to be okay with this.  
  
"I'm okay. The new prosthetic is steady, and I have my cane if I need it."  
  
Nose twitching, Kara puts on a brave, smiling face. Anyone who didn't know her would be fooled, but Susan can see that she is swallowing thickly and that her eyebrows are pulled together indicating distress.  
  
The blonde pulls Susan into a hug, letting out a shuddering breath, then steps back and lets Maggie do the same.  
  
"See ya tomorrow, Vas," Maggie says, grin a little wilted around the edges.  
  
"See you tomorrow, detective."  
  
And then they are gone.  
  
And Susan gets the best sleep she's had since... since.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone for sticking with this! I know the pairing (?) is a rare one, it's angsty af, and can be super heavy and odd. 
> 
> I have considered leaving things as they are at the end of this chapter - it is a good stopping point. But, if you guys want the last planned chapter I am happy to write it out. Let me know in the comments.

**Author's Note:**

> Format's a little different this time. All Vasquez POV. Less clueless pining. LESS not NONE.
> 
> Questions, concerns, or whatever, throw 'em in the comments.


End file.
